A musical dilemma
by Asphodel Ash
Summary: Professor Flitwick has set up a choir and Hogwarts and both Harry and Draco have been given lead roles. What will happen when they're told they're to sing a duet together? Eventual Drarry :)
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter woke up slowly and yawned widely, letting himself relax for the last time until Christmas. He could already hear Mrs Weasley pottering around in the kitchen and he smiled to himself. It was going to be an excellent last day of the summer holidays. He looked across to where Ron was snoring and grinned. He wouldn't be awake for ages. He glanced at the clock: half 10.

Carefully, so as not to wake his best friend, Harry stood up, picked his clothes out his trunk and made his way to the little bathroom. He washed his face and got dressed, leaving his pyjamas in the laundry to be speed washed for the start of term. As he went downstairs he passed Ginny and greeted her merrily. They'd broken up but were still close friends. She'd gone back to Dean over the summer and was perfectly happy with him. He tried in vain to neaten his hair before Mrs Weasley could fuss and went into the kitchen.

"Morning Mrs Weasley" he said. She looked up, smiling.

"Good morning dear. Did you sleep well?" he nodded as she tipped sausages and bacon onto his plate.

"Thanks!" he said, helping himself to toast. As he set to work devouring the delicious breakfast the kitchen door opened and a streak of ginger fluff proceeded a mane if bushy brown hair.

"Morning 'mione!" He said around a mouthful of bacon.

"Hi Harry," she said, grinning. His and Ron's love of food had always amused her. She greeted Mrs Weasley and helped herself to toast, pulling that morning's copy of The Daily Prophet towards her. Harry rolled his eyes; he hated reading the papers. By the time she was half way through it, he had almost finished.

Scraping his plate clean he took it over to the sink and looked out the window. His eyes widened and he hastened to open it before the five owls crashed into it. Standing quickly aside he watched them swoop in, drop Errol and two large packages then leave again.

Ron, who had just come into the kitchen, groaned. "Ruddy owl. He's pathetic! Can't we get a new one mum?" he asked, advancing towards the unconscious owl and prodding him awake. Mrs Weasley said nothing. With a start Errol woke and tried to ruffle his wings. Ron rolled his eyes and carried him to his perch, which he promptly fell off. Ron made a face of disgust and left him there. Hermione shot him a glare and got up to help the exhausted grey bird.

"What's in the parcels mum?" Ron said around a large mouthful of sausage. Mrs Weasley had gone to investigate while Ron 'helped' Errol. She turned them over, looking for a name.

"One's for Harry and one's for...well that doesn't make any sense." all three turned to look at her. "It's addressed to Draco Malfoy" she frowned. Harry Ron and Hermione exchanged a look of confusion mixed with suspicion. Harry took his package and Molly handed Malfoy's to Ron.

The kitchen was silent but for the dishes washing themselves up in the sink. It was heavy. Harry held his parcel up to his ear. Nothing. There was no noise so he smelt it. It smelled of nothing he'd smelt before so he held it out for Hermione. She rolled her eyes but took it and repeated Harry's actions. Ron had just carefully put Malfoy's at a distance away from himself and gone back to eating, not trusting it to keep it anywhere near himself.

Hermione frowned in concentration as she tried to identify the smell. "It smells like a mix of potions ingredients...but why would someone send you them?" Harry shook his head, at a loss.

"I don't know...maybe it's for a particular potion? But why would they send Malfoy one too? He could just ask Snape for anything. Or his parents, they'd get him anything," he added as an afterthought. Hermione shrugged in confusion and handed Harry back the brown paper package. He took it warily and slit open one corner with his knife.

There was a shiny black box inside and he pulled off the paper. He frowned and carefully opened the lid. He peered inside then opened it fully.

"Well you were right Hermione; it's ingredients." Harry said. Pulling his wand out his pocket, he summoned his NEWT textbook from his and Ron's room. When it flew through the door he looked expectantly at Hermione. She looked at him in disbelief.

"You can't be serious?" she said. He just smiled a little sheepishly and she sighed in exasperation. "Can't you do _anything_ by yourself?"

"Not this early in the morning." he grinned and Ron snorted, which Harry chose to ignore, "And besides, you've probably already got an idea of what to look for," he knew he had her there and so did she. She 'humph'ed and flipped to the index. Running a finger down the page her eyes moved rapidly from side to side. She paused several times only to make a face and then kept going. She turned the page more than once and finally seemed to find what she was looking for.

"And here, we have the potion. Or so I assume," She rifled rapidly through the book to the right page and dropped the book on the table. It landed with a dull thud and both Harry and Ron leaned forward to see the page, the latter's mouth still food of food.

"A singing potion? What in Merlin's name…?" said Harry, utterly at a loss.

_The Chanting Chalice presents the drinker with perfect pitch and an excellent ear for music. They will not sing a note out of tune until the solution wears off. This potion is often used by choir conductors of amateur singers or young children in musical theatre. Muggles occasionally get hold of it and have in the past become very famous in the muggle world._

Harry frowned at the text. Was someone planning on starting a choir at Hogwarts? If so, why did they send him and Malfoy ingredients but not Ron or Hermione? The latter was rummaging through the package and produced a note. She read it aloud.

"_Dear Mr Potter_

_I am pleased to inform you that you have been chosen to be the lead bass in Professor Flitwick's newly founded choir. As Hogwarts School does not teach singing, we have no idea whatsoever whether or not you can actually hit the correct notes. Therefore we have sent you this package in the hopes you will concoct the potion before the start of term if you cannot sing. I have heard Miss Granger sing and I am confident that she can judge whether or not you can._

_Have a good summer and we will see you on 1__st__ September for the start of term,_

_Professor M. McGonagall"_

Harry gaped at Hermione and Ron roared with laughter. Lead bass? No. No way. Harry had not signed up to this! He would not do it.

"Can you sing Harry?" Hermione asked. He shrugged.

"I've never really tried," he admitted.

"Mate you're stuffed!" said Ron, in between snorts of laughter. Harry glared at him.

"What does Malfoy's say?" He asked grumpily. Hermione started to protest but Ron grabbed the parcel and chucked it over to him. Harry caught it and ripped off the paper, shooting Hermione a look which quietened her immediately, proceeding to search Malfoy's silver box for a note. He found it and extracted it from between a jar of eyes and some suspicious looking red liquid in a vial.

He scanned it quickly and started laughing. It grew louder the more he thought about what he'd just read and he threw the letter onto the table for the others to read. They frowned and leant over it. When they'd read it Ron joined in the laughter and even Hermione smirked.

"Alto? Malfoy's an alto?" Ron said in disbelief. Harry made a gesture to indicate he had something to say but couldn't due to laughter.

"He's –he's a first alto –the highest male part there is!" He laughed until his sides hurt. At last there was a way of getting back at Malfoy for everything he'd done to them over the years. Hermione however, as ever, managed to find the one thing that could shut Harry up.

"You know," she began thoughtfully, "Since you're the lowest and he's the highest, you might well be singing a duet with him. That would explain why you've both been sent ingredients." Harry's laughter cut of immediately but Ron's just got louder.

"What's going on?" Came a sleepy voice from the doorway.

"Yeah, some of us are trying to sleep here!" Came a second, grumpier voice. The trio looked round and saw the twins in the kitchen doorway. Hermione explained what just happened and they grinned.

"If we were still at Hogwarts, we would pay to see this happen." Said George. Fred snickered and Harry threw a spoon at him. He swatted it aside and it landed on Crookshanks, who hissed and streaked away.

"Oops, sorry Hermione" said Fred. Hermione just rolled her eyes. Fred and George gave identical grins and went back upstairs to bed, laughing quietly to themselves. Harry rolled his eyes and repaired the wrapping paper on Malfoy's box with a spell, the note safely back inside. Hermione just looked at him, aghast. He smiled innocently.

"It was one harmless spell Hermione. And the ministry can't detect me in a magical setting; they'll assume it was Mr or Mrs Weasley. Or just one of the of-age Weasleys." Harry tried to console her. She just grimaced but let it go, for which he was grateful; it was too early in the morning for him to be able to win an argument against her.

Ron kept eating and when he was finally done all three of them rose from the table. Harry picked up Malfoy's parcel, thanked Mrs Weasley for breakfast and went back upstairs with Ron and Hermione. Dumping Malfoy's ingredients unceremoniously into his trunk, Harry got out his cauldron, potions knife, chopping board and cauldron stand.

"Hermione…" Harry said in a hopeful voice. She rolled her eyes.

"Yes I'll help you brew it."

"You're the best," he said. Taking the equipment downstairs he picked up his own ingredients and textbook from the table and took it all outside. Setting it up quickly he flipped to the right page (which he'd marked) and read it through again.

"Looks simple enough…" He murmured. He was alright at potions if a) Snape wasn't breathing down his neck and b) he was concentrating.

Two hours later Harry and Hermione finished. Ron was sitting to the side eating an apple and reading a new book on Quidditch.

"I thought Hermione was meant to judge your singing capabilities before you made the potion?" Ron commented, not looking up from his book. Harry looked up.

"Oh yeah!" He laughed, "Forgot about that. Ah well, it's too late now," He gave the potion one last stir and ladled it into flasks, holding them up to the light. The potion was a green-silver colour and shimmered as the light hit it. Harry blinked and put it carefully aside. Hermione cleared away the remaining ingredients and equipment.

"Would you like me to judge your singing Harry?" she asked. Harry shrugged.

"Sure, it can't hurt." Hermione settled comfortably on the ground and Harry sat up straight. He began to sing a song by a wizarding singer that he'd heard at the Weasley's a lot over the summer. As he sang he forgot there were people there and just let the music flow through him. He lost himself in the music in his head and sang his heart out, not paying attention to the warm wind as it brushed against him. He only half heard the leaves rustling on the ground and the birds in the garden that seemed to sing with him. The flowers nearby opened slowly as he sang and gnomes started poking their heads out of bushes.

Ron looked up in amazement, his mouth hanging open and Hermione stared at him. When Harry finished it took him a minute to come back to himself. When he did he blinked a couple of times and shook his head as if coming out of a trance. He looked at his two best friends both staring at him in shock and shifted uncomfortably. He hated attention.

"What?" He asked, unaware of what had just happened. The flowers, birds, wind, leaves and gnomes had all gone back to normal. "What?" He said insistently.

"Harry…" Ron said in a strangled voice, still looking rather shell-shocked.

"_What?_" He asked again, starting to get annoyed.

"Harry you're amazing." Hermione choked out. "Did you already take some of the potion?" He shook his head. "Have you ever had lessons?" He snorted in derision.

"Yeah, the Dursleys would _so _pay for me to have voice lessons." He said sarcastically.

"Harry you have to hear yourself sing. That was amazing! Why didn't you tell us you were so good?" She insisted. He squirmed slightly.

"I didn't know," he sounded honestly surprised. "I don't tend to sing. The only times I do is in the shower," his lips quirked up into a smile, "and there's never anyone there to hear me." He started to feel very uncomfortable under the stares. "Guys, please; stop with the staring." He said. They both smiled apologetically and looked away. Ron went back to his book and Hermione put the flasks of potion into a carrier. Harry relaxed slightly and helped clean the cauldron. They cleared everything away and Harry went back upstairs to pack it all away in his trunk.

As he straightened up Hedwig tapped on the window. He smiled and let her in. She flew onto his arm and nibbled his finger affectionately. He stroked her and decided to give her a job. He encouraged her onto the bedpost and got out Malfoy's ingredients. He scribbled a quick note to him explaining why Hedwig was delivering it and attached them to Hedwig's leg.

"This is for Draco Malfoy, ok?" She hooted once and flapped back out the window. He watched her go, smiling to himself. He didn't know what he'd do without her. He could of course just have given Malfoy the stuff the next day on the train or at school, but they took up unnecessary space in his trunk. He glanced at the clock again: quarter past one. He went back downstairs to enjoy the afternoon with his two best friends before school started again.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy's eyes flew open as his father rapped insistently on the door.

"What?" He snapped.

"Get up Draco. It's your last day of the holida-" came the muffled reply.

"So you should let me sleep in one more time, exactly." He retorted, interrupting his dad before he got started. He heard a rude grumble muffled by the heavy wooden door and rolled his eyes. "One hour dad and you can wake me up, ok? I need beauty sleep!"

"You bet you do." Came the teasing reply. Draco made noise of mock indignation and threw Mr Cuddles at the door. His dad laughed and told him to go back to sleep. Draco happily obliged, but not before accio-ing Mr Cuddles. Half eleven was far too early to be up in the holidays, right?

Next time he awoke he was in a much better mood and full of energy. He flung back the covers and went into the bathroom. After a hot shower he dried and styled his hair, applied moisturiser to his face and finally got dressed. When he was completely satisfied with his appearance he went downstairs for brunch.

"Morning mum!" He called as he walked past the living room.

"Morning dear!" Came the reply. He smiled and went into the long dining room. As he sat down, their house-elf served him food and he grinned at her. If there was anyone else in the room he wouldn't have done it, but he was feeling happy that morning. The elf looked confused but not displeased and bowed to him.

He made a start on his food and pulled the morning paper closer. He flipped through it disinterestedly and eventually gave up on it, choosing to focus on eating instead.

After brunch he had a set routine he followed in the holidays; upstairs, brush teeth, piano practice, singing practice, afternoon jog, flying practice, shower, and dinner. He got very grumpy whenever someone interrupted this routine.

Halfway through his piano practice he was interrupted. He scowled and looked around. At the window was a beautiful, snowy white owl with large, intelligent eyes. Draco thought she looked familiar but couldn't place her. He got up, irritated to have been interrupted. Having opened the window, the owl fluttered tiredly through the window. She was carrying a heavy looking parcel and a note in her beak. He took both off her and offered her a drink from his owl's perch. She hooted gratefully and drank.

Draco unfolded the note first.

_Malfoy,_

_These were delivered to me with mine rather than to you; I don't know why. It's not dangerous, I got the same things._

_HP_

Draco had no doubt that 'HP' was Harry Potter. He frowned and turned to the parcel, discarding the note on top of the grand piano. He unwrapped it cautiously and opened it carefully.

Frowning he took mental note of each ingredient present and went through a list of possible potions he could make with them in his head. The only one that entirely matched was the Chanting Chalice. Why would he have to make that? Moving a few ingredients around, he found a note on higher quality parchment than the one from Potter. He unfolded it, noticing it was already creased. Had Potter opened this parcel too? That bastard. He scanned the letter quickly.

"_Dear Mr Malfoy_

_I am pleased to inform you that you have been chosen to be the lead alto in Professor Flitwick's newly founded choir. As Hogwarts School does not teach singing, we have no idea whatsoever whether or not you can actually hit the correct notes. Therefore we have sent you this package in the hopes you will concoct the potion before the start of term if you cannot sing. You will be an alto one and I expect someone to judge your ability to sing before you arrive at school._

_Have a good summer and we will see you on 1__st__ September for the start of term,_

_Professor M. McGonagall"_

He rolled his eyes. Of course he could sing. For generations Malfoys had been tutored in music. It was deemed to be one of the most important arts. They were also tutored in art but Draco had a natural talent and had fired the teacher for insulting his favourite piece. He'd refused the offer of another instructor.

He was an excellent singer and often sang around the house. He was once invited to open a gig for a muggle band but his father forbade it, claiming there were too many muggles. Draco had argued for days then sulked for weeks when he'd been denied the opportunity to leave the house to do something he enjoyed.

Draco moved the parcel and notes to by the fireplace. He then glanced at his watch, grimaced at how long that had taken and went back to piano practice.

"Hurry up!" Lucius screamed up the stairs.

"I'm almost done, shut up!" Draco roared back. Merlin, his father was such an arsehole when he was stressed. Throwing the last couple of things into his trunk, he noticed the ingredients in their box by the fire. He rolled his eyes and chucked them in too. It wouldn't hurt to give it to someone in the choir who couldn't sing. He hadn't told his parents about the choir yet, but he undoubtedly would on the way to the station.

Draco summoned the house-elf and ordered her to take the case downstairs. She bowed and disapparated with it. He pulled on a scarf and a stylish jacket over his muggle attire and went downstairs.

"Finally." Lucius snapped. Draco just shot him a filthy look and pulled on a pair of Italian leather boots. Narcissa was waiting in the car and greeted him warmly as he slid into the back seat. He smiled at her and watched his father levitate his heavy trunk into the boot. The young blonde boy smirked at him as he opened the driver's door and got in. Their driver was off ill and Lucius had to drive. He hated driving. Apparating was much easier and so much quicker.

Finally, the engine started and they were on their way. The journey was long and conversation slight. He mentioned the choir and got a neutral response, they didn't really seem to mind or even care. Draco lounged across the back seats, doodling in the air with a magical pencil that allowed you to sketch on nothing. The images didn't last though. He produced detailed images of Hogwarts, classrooms, potions, Quidditch, their house elf, Potter's trio and Dumbledore.

By the time they arrived at King's Cross the air was saturated by graphite and Draco's arm was tired from staying up so long. He stored the pencil in his pocket and blew the drawings away. They dissolved into swirls then into nothingness. He sat upright and stretched. Opening the door he got out and made his way onto the platform. It was quarter to eleven; they'd made it in plenty of time, despite Lucius' insistence that they left late.

Draco heaved his trunk onto the train and said goodbye to his parents. Just as he stepped onto the train he heard a trio of familiar laughs and looked round. Sure enough, Potter, Granger and the Weasleys had just arrived. Honestly, did Potter never spend a summer anywhere else? But then, where else would he spend it? Draco wondered where he'd hate more; a muggle's house or the Weasley's den. He wasn't sure; he'd have to think about it.

He sneered at them as they noticed him and disappeared into the train. He could almost hear them rolling their eyes in unison and smirked, searching the train for his friends. Once he found them he flung himself down into a chair and immersed himself in their conversations.

The rest journey passed like this, Draco buying a pastie for lunch from the trolley and enjoying the journey.

As the train slowed and the station slid into view, rain started to fall. Draco grimaced and fished an umbrella out of his hand luggage. He stood up and stretched, rolling his shoulders to remove the knots of tension that had built after hours of sitting relatively still. He smiled at Pansy and stepped out into the corridor, holding the door open for his house-mates and stopping everyone behind them from getting past.

There was an outcry of annoyance from the held up crowd and Draco turned and sneered at them all. Right behind him stood the golden trio and friends, looking formidably annoyed. Weasley was glaring daggers at him, Granger was scowling at him with her arms crossed and Potter was staring calmly at him, his expression unreadable. Draco smirked and let the door slide shut, walking off at a leisurely pace. Someone poked him in the back and he looked over his shoulder to see the Weaslette poking the back of his robes with her wand.

"Hurry up Malfoy," she said in icy tones. Draco snickered and continued at the same pace. Someone hit him in the back of the head. It throbbed dully.

"Ron!" Exclaimed Hermione.

"Hermione! He wouldn't have known it was me if you hadn't said that!" Ron protested angrily.

"Shut up," said Harry. He sounded tired of their bickering and Draco felt a twinge of pity for him. It was gone immediately however as he spoke again. "But do speed up ferret face, some of us want to get off the train." Draco shoved his elbow backwards and was rewarded with an 'oomph' of pain as it collided with Potter's ribs. He did however speed up. He was getting hungry.

Too soon he was out in the freezing rain, a cold wind whipping at him, going right through his robes and cloak. He hopped into an empty carriage (his friends having left him) and waited to be joined. Unfortunately the next people off the train were Potter and gang. He almost groaned out loud, but that would not be proper, so he held it in and just scowled at them. As one, Potter, Weasley and sister, Granger, Lovegood and Longbottom smirked at him. He almost laughed at the sight but managed to keep a straight face. Potter himself sat opposite him.

The carriage jerked forwards and they began a conversation, apparently continued from the train, ignoring Draco in the corner. That suited him perfectly. He watched the landscape slide past, half listening the their conversation.

"So you're lead bass Harry? Really?" Asked Longbottom. Draco assumed Potter nodded as there was no reply.

"Can you sing then?" This encouraged Draco to look round. It was just discernible in the dim light that Potter was blushing.

"You should hear him Neville, he's amazing!" gushed Hermione when no reply was forthcoming from the golden boy.

"'m not _that _good Hermione." He mumbled, looking as though he wished the seat would swallow him whole.

"You are mate." Weasley chipped in. Weaslette nodded insistently. Potter's blush deepened and Draco snickered. They all turned to look at him.

"What's so funny?" Weasley asked hotly. Merlin, was this guy _ever_ happy?

"Is there anything Potter here _isn't_ good at? Apart from potions of course." He asked. Potter started to protest, saying how he was bad at loads but his friends drowned him out, denying everything he said he wasn't good at. Draco was forgotten and he leaned back into the shadows, smirking.

They spent most of the ride up to school debating whether or not Potter was good at everything. Well, all of them but the boy himself, who, like Draco, was leaning back into the shadows and staring at his knees. Draco felt a pang of pity for him and nudged his foot gently. The Gryffindor looked up, startled. Draco sent him a questioning look. Potter frowned at him suspiciously, evidently wondering why he cared. He made a face and shrugged, which Draco took to mean 'I'm used to it, it doesn't matter'.

'Really? Why do you put up with it?'

*Shrug* 'It's better than spending all my time alone' (or something like that; expressions can be hard to read)

'If I didn't hate you, you could hang with me' was what he tried to reply. Potter seemed to get it, as he raised an eyebrow.

'Really?'

*Nod*

'Well that's surprising. Why would you do that for me?'

Draco had to think about that one. Why had he suggested it? He was saved from answering by the carriage slowing down and stopping. The Gryffindors all filed out and Draco avoided Potter's eye as he left ahead of him. He spotted his friends just ahead and jogged up to them, not looking back but feeling eyes on him.

"Draco! Merlin, we're so sorry! If we thought you'd be left with _them _we would have waited," Pansy said loudly. Weasley bumped into him as he passed but Potter avoided his gaze. Draco shrugged.

"Apart from the stink, it wasn't completely unbearable," he drawled, making sure the receding group could hear him. His friends chuckled and he led them up the steps and through the Entrance Hall into the Great Hall.

They settles into their seats and joked around until the sorting, through which they joked around quieter, not paying any attention. At last the feast began and Draco loaded his plate up with delicious food. He listened to the buzz of conversation around him but didn't deign to join in but for a witty or sarcastic remark here and there. Finally the last of the puddings disappeared and the hall fell silent at Dumbledore stood up. He gave some speech about sticking together and staying a united front (at which there was an outbreak of snickering; Hogwarts hadn't been united for a thousand years) and sent them all off to bed.

The benches scraped back and the noise level grew. Draco heard prefects calling out to the new first years and made his way to the common room, not waiting for his friends. He pressed a prefect for the password before he left the hall and let himself in.

He headed down towards the boy's dormitories and changed quickly into his silk pyjamas. They were a faded red and silver; an odd combination, but one that worked on Draco. He cast a cleaning charm on his teeth as he couldn't be bothered to go brush them, and got into bed. He drew the curtains around his four-poster and was almost asleep by the time his dorm-mates came in. He cast sound-proofing charms on his curtains to keep out the noise, and keep his own dreams to himself. He fell asleep almost immediately, feeling happy and full for what would probably be the last time that year.

He couldn't have been more wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

During dinner, Harry talked and laughed with his friends. They were all in high spirits; happy to be back and all together again. The conversation was light and talk of classes was strictly avoided. They enjoyed the evening and cheered loudly as Dumbledore dismissed them. They surged out the doors and raced up to the tower, laughing. Ron spoke the new password and they all tumbled through the hole in the wall. The fat lady sighed but smiled at them.

Ron set up a chess game with Seamus whilst Hermione shepherded in the new first years, scowling at Ron for not helping her. He grinned sheepishly at her and went back to his game. Harry sat with Neville and Dean, swapping stories about their holidays, and trading chocolate frog cards. By eleven o'clock the room had emptied dramatically and the remaining few students were yawning widely. The girls had all gone to bed at a sensible time and it was only Harry, Dean, Ron, Seamus and Neville left.

"Time for bed?" Dean said in between yawns. There was a general murmur of assent and the chess set and cards were abandoned as they traipsed upstairs to bed. Harry cast a cleaning spell on his teeth, changed into red and gold pyjamas and got into bed. He drew the hangings and bid the room goodnight. He got three sleepy replies and a loud snore from Ron's direction. He smiled tiredly and removed his glasses, falling asleep immediately.

Harry woke with his alarm clock and swatted it onto the floor. It shut up but it also broke. He groaned and reached for his wand. Repairing it quickly, he reached for his glasses and pushed them onto his nose, blinking sleepily. It was a bad plan to go to bed later than half ten on a school night; he needed to remember that. He got out of bed and returned the alarm clock to its rightful place. Heading for the showers with a towel over one shoulder, he greeted the slowly waking room, receiving the same response as his 'good night' had. He grinned and disappeared into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later Harry emerged, hair dripping, glasses cloudy but feeling much more awake. He pulled fresh robes out his trunk and threw a pillow at Ron to wake him up. He got a weak groan of protest and laughed.

"Get up you lazy git; you've got twenty minutes before breakfast!" He said, getting dressed. He was just tying his tie as his pillow hit him in the back of the head. He laughed and returned it to the top of his bed. "Guess I sort of deserved that," he admitted.

"You bet you did," Ron said grumpily.

"Well at least you're awake now."

"Oh great, a day of school," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on Ron, it's a _magic_ school, full of _magic_. What's not to love?"

Ron looked at him. "Slytherins." Harry just laughed.

"You're going to be late if you don't get up,"

"Fine! Fine, I'm getting up! Happy now?" Harry merely nodded, grinning. He finished tying his tie and closed his trunk with a thud. Grabbing his wand from the bedside table, he went down to the common room to wait for Ron and Hermione. He fiddled with his wand, swishing it about and twirling it in his hands. Within two minutes he'd both made it snow and set a chair on fire. He yelped and put it out with a quick 'aguamenti', trying to cover the damage with a cushion.

"Harry, why does it smell of burning fabric down here?" Asked Hermione. Harry started and whipped around, not having heard her approach. She raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" He protested, a little too quickly. She didn't believe him, making this clear with a look. He blushed. "I was playing with my wand and the chair caught fire," he said, just as Ron came down the stairs.

His ginger friend immediately started laughing while Hermione removed the cushion and fixed the damage with a simple spell. Harry grinned at her.

"Breakfast?" He suggested.

"Yes! I'm starving" said Ron.

"Tell us something we don't know," Hermione muttered, too quietly for Ron to hear. Harry snickered and led the way out the portrait hole and down to the Great Hall. On the way, Ron regaled them with his nightmare about spiders eating him alive as he tried not to fail miserably at saving goals in a Quidditch match. Harry laughed and made sympathetic noises at the right moments, but wasn't really listening.

They took their seats and McGonagall descended upon them in a flash (of blue light). "Timetables! Let's see now…" she tapped blank pieces of parchment and handed one each to the trio. They accepted them and studied them. Harry and Ron groaned in unison whilst Hermione smiled, apparently pleased with hers.

"I have double potions!" Groaned Ron, piling bacon onto his plate and covering it in ketchup.

"So do I!" complained Harry. "Followed by choir practice after break. Hey, what do you have there?" He picked Ron's timetable off the table and examined it. Ron had a free period at every point Harry had choir. "Guess you're not in it," he said icily. Ron shrugged, unable to speak through a mouthful of food. That didn't stop him from trying though.

"N't m' fot mt" he said. Harry just looked at him unamused until he swallowed his mouthful. Hermione was pointedly ignoring him while he at with such bad manners. "Not my fault mate!" He repeated.

"I know; I just hate to spend half my free periods in _Malfoy's_ company," Harry sighed.

"Trust me Potter, you're not my first choice either," drawled a very familiar voice just behind them. Ron's hand clenched on his fork and Hermione put a hand on his arm. Malfoy had spread some horrific rumours about the Weasley's over the summer; fuelling Ron's hatred for him until it blazed out of control. Harry turned calmly around.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I was merely passing and heard my name. I thought I'd let my opinion known."

"You've done plenty of that already, ferret-face." Harry snarled.

"Come up with a new insult, will you? That one's getting old," Malfoy said, sounding bored.

"Right, because yours are _so _original." He imitated Malfoy's angry drawl. "Just wait until my father hears about this! You filthy little mudblood!" He spat. Malfoy's lip just curled.

"Not too loud Potty, or you might attract attention. And Merlin knows you've had enough of that for a lifetime."

"Aw, is the ickle ferret jealous of famous Harry Potter?" Harry said in a baby voice.

"You wish." Was the simple retort. Malfoy turned in a swirl of robes and retreated to the Slytherin table to exaggerate the exchange to his ridiculous friends. Harry watched him go, glaring at his back. What had happened to the Malfoy in the carriage? Harry sighed and turned back to his breakfast.

There was a flash of light and Collin appeared at his elbow, camera in his hands.

"You did not just photograph my argument, did you Collin?" Harry said in a voice full of warning. Collin paled.

"Err...no?" he squeaked. Harry closed his eyes. He didn't need another reminder of his and Malfoy's rivalry.

"You are not to ever show me those pictures Collin, understand?" The younger boy nodded rapidly. "Good. Now go have some breakfast or something," he said dismissively.

"Ok!" chirped Collin, disappearing down the table to sit with his friends, already babbling away to them.

Harry mentally sighed and turned back to his own breakfast. The morning post rained down upon the students and Harry caught a rolled up poster before it hit Hermione on the head. He glanced at the name on it and handed it to Ron, continuing to eat as it was removed from his grasp. He heard it unroll and Ron make a satisfied noise.

"Excellent! My new Chuddley Cannons poster!"

"Another one?"

"Well you can never have too many!" Ron grinned, rolling it back up and laying it next to him on the table. Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry grinned, picking a last piece of toast.

Harry, Ron and Hermione trod the familiar and well-worn path down to the dungeons; two out of three of them dreading what Snape would have in store for them. Half way down they ended up walking behind Malfoy and his body-guards. Ron's hands balled into fists and Hermione put a warning hand on his shoulder. Harry scowled at Malfoy's back as the blonde git laughed with Crabbe and Goyle, wanting nothing more than to punch him in the face…or back, either would work.

They walked in stony silence the rest of the way down and lined up quietly in front of the classroom door. The damp, dark corridor did nothing to improve their mood and they filed miserably into class without saying a word.

"Silence everyone." Snape sneered. There was no change in the already silent class. "Today you will be working in partners," he hissed. There was an audible groan from everyone. "Quiet!" He roared. It fell immediately. "You will be paired with the person sitting next to you," he continued. That meant Ron and Hermione were together and Harry was alone. He cursed under his breath. He was sure to be put with one of the Slytherins.

"Draco, you're with Potter." Snape snapped.

"What?!" Harry and Malfoy exclaimed in protest together.

"See, you're already thinking alike." He smirked. "Do it. Now." He said in his most dangerous voice. Malfoy scowled across at Harry but stayed resolutely put. Harry snarled and thrust his things back into his bag, swinging it over his shoulder and slouching across the room to sit next to Malfoy. Ron gave him a sympathetic look and Hermione looked worried. He sent her a reassuring, if false, smile and turned back to Snape, glowering at him.

"Today you will be making…" Snape introduced the lesson, explaining the method and ingredients of the potion they would be making. Harry's thoughts drifted off whilst Malfoy listened as attentively as Hermione. When Snape finished there was a scraping back of chairs and Malfoy poked Harry, a little harder than necessary, to bring him back to the present.

"Honestly Potter, no wonder you're so bad at potions; you don't listen!" He drawled.

"Of course I don't," Harry scoffed. "Why would I listen to that greasy git?" Malfoy smirked and tried to hold back laughter. A silky smooth voice dripping with contempt came from behind him.

"Because 'that greasy git' is your teacher, without whom you would fail this class. It would serve you well to pay attention in my class Potter. I suppose it's lucky your partner pays attention." He said quietly. "Ten points from Gryffindor Mr Potter, for insulting a teacher." With that he swept away and Harry stuck his middle finger up at his back. Malfoy looked ready to hit him at that.

"I'll get the ingredients, shall I?" Malfoy said icily. Harry gave a non-committal shrug and started doodling on his parchment. Malfoy gave an exasperated sigh and left the table. Harry crossed his arms on the desk and let his head fall onto them; it was first lesson of the term and he'd already managed to lose his house points. What was wrong with him? The noise of ingredients being tipped onto the table caused him to look up into a sneering, pointed face.

"You're pathetic Potter, you know that?"

"I've been told," he said icily. "What page are we on?"

"We're not, it's not the board you idiot." Harry looked up and Malfoy was right; there were instructions on the board.

"Oh." He said shortly, pulling his chopping board and knife towards himself. He picked out some roots and began chopping them. Malfoy pulled his own towards him and started dicing rat spleen.

They turned out to be an efficient team, snide remarks and insults being exchanged every so often to retain balance in the universe. By half way through the lesson they were further on than even Hermione, though Ron was slowing her down a bit.

Harry could tell Malfoy was surprised, but not displeased, that Harry could actually brew potions if he concentrated. He knew the blonde boy wouldn't ever admit that Harry was good at something, but it didn't matter.

"Your first half of the session is up! At this point your potion should be simmering nicely and should be a deep purple-red colour. That would be the ideal stage, though looking around from here it seems only three pairs have succeeded this. I will be coming around to check your potions, keep working!" Snape called out from the front. Harry smirked at him; their potion was beyond that point. Snape made his rounds, coming to theirs last. Harry could have sworn he saw an amazed expression flash across his face before it was replaced with a blank one.

"Very good Draco; ten points to Slytherin." He said with an evil little grin at Harry. He felt his face heat up and as Snape turned away he felt himself jump to his feet. He opened his mouth to have a go but felt a hand clutch the back of his robes and pull him heavily back into his seat. He looked around, bewildered, into Malfoy's calm face.

"Don't," he warned. "You've already lost ten points, you can't afford to lose more and it would suck for your Quidditch team to miss practices because you're being an idiot. And besides, you're the only person who actually gives me a challenge in catching the snitch." Harry just stared at him, his mouth hanging open.

"You…you just…what?" Harry said, bewildered. He didn't understand what Malfoy was saying. He almost seemed to be helping him. It was like the Malfoy from the carriage had suddenly made a reappearance. Malfoy ignored his stammering and turned back to the potion.

"Juice the beans would you?" He said, avoiding Harry's eyes. The Gryffindor pulled the beans towards himself, still confused but leaving it. The rest of the lesson passed in relative silence, the odd command or question being asked every so often.

By the end of the lesson they'd successfully finished the potion and were cleared away before half the other pairs had finished. Malfoy took a flask of it up to the front and for once Snape accepted something that Harry had made. Harry flashed him a defiant smile and Snape scowled at him.

Harry took his scales back to the store cupboard and turned around to find himself face to face with Malfoy. They were barely a foot apart and Harry blinked rapidly in surprise. Malfoy raised an eyebrow, reaching up over him to replace his own scales on the shelf.

"You look like an idiot when you do that," he said softly.

"You _always_ look like an idiot Malfoy." Harry retorted, smiling innocently. Malfoy shoved him backwards with much less force than Harry would have expected and exited the cupboard, leaving a very confused Harry behind.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters etc., it all belongs to J.K. Rowling. I can only claim credit for the plot. _

_This is a slightly shorter chapter and my apologies for the delay but I've had no time to myself at all in the last week! D: But anyway, enjoy!_

Harry spent break in the library, out of the cold and with Hermione. Ron was seeing McGonagall about some late homework or something of the sort and hadn't joined them. He spent a pleasant twenty minutes in the quiet space before what he knew would be a catastrophic choir session. At the end of break however, he got a pleasant surprise; Hermione was in it too. She hadn't said in front of Ron so he wouldn't feel left out. She intended to try and hide it for as long as possible. Harry just said that hiding it would make it worse but she brushed aside his warning.

Harry wasn't sure what he'd expected when he and Hermione entered the unused classroom on the fifth floor which was being used for practice. Whatever it was was not what he saw.

There were chairs arranged in a semi-circle and three rows in front of a music stand, behind which stood Professor Flitwick. He nodded them in, smiling cheerily. There was a huge grand piano off to one side and behind it sat the last person Harry would have expected.

Snape. Severus Snape could apparently play piano proficiently enough to accompany a choir, which was no mean feat. Harry ignored the greasy-haired potions master and took the seat indicated by Flitwick. Hermione was on the other side of the room with the sopranos.

The room slowly filled with students of all ages; ranging from tiny first years to bored looking seventh years. If any were surprised to see Harry, none let it show. Malfoy sauntered in last, just before Flitwick shut the doors.

"Hurry up Mr Malfoy, we're about to start!" He squeaked in his tiny voice.

"I'm so sorry, I would _hate_ to miss the beginning of practice," he drawled, his voice tinged with sarcasm. Flitwick either didn't notice or chose to ignore it. Harry scowled at him then remembered which position Malfoy was to be singing and grinned vindictively. Malfoy gave him a smooth sneer and swaggered past him to the only free seat left. Harry resisted the urge to stick out a foot as he went past, but only just. He contented himself with an eye-roll.

"Now then choir! I have sorted you according to age and previous auditions. Some of you of course have not auditioned before, but I trust my judgement. We can always have a shift-around if things aren't quite right, can't we?" Flitwick said. Harry felt a stab of pity for the little professor; he seemed oblivious to the air of tension that came from Slytherins and Gryffindors sat next to each other. He also seemed oblivious to the glaring taking place and the low hiss and snarls of quiet insults being exchanged.

He went on easily and Harry assumed he was choosing to ignore the awkwardness as he ignored Malfoy's sarcasm. "We will be doing both muggle and wizarding songs," The room fell silent at that and the Slytherins all scowled. Harry snickered quietly. Malfoy shot him a glare and Harry just smiled back innocently. He did wonder how Flitwick had heard muggle songs considering the radios at Hogwarts weren't tuned into their stations.

"First! I want Potter and Malfoy up at the front. They are to be joined by Greengrass, Nott and McDonald. You five will sing a quintet; these are tricky to do, but I trust you can all manage." Said Flitwick. As Harry walked to the front he saw Snape sneering at him. He raised an eyebrow coolly back and stood facing the remainder of the choir.

Malfoy stood next to him, a distasteful expression on his face. Harry ignored him. To start with, they warmed up; just the five at the front first. All together they went up scales, joining in and dropping out when each section's range was breached. Everyone present agreed that the five chosen were perfect choices. Each could sing well and all were confident. McDonald was just a second year, but she was an excellent singer. Harry was surprised when he heard Malfoy sing; he'd obviously had lessons.

When the five chosen ones were warmed up, the rest of the choir was made to stand. They repeated the warm up exercises and the chosen ones were given copies of a muggle song that they would be performing together. Parts were briefly studied then put away in pockets for later use.

"Now then!" Professor Flitwick squeaked once everyone was ready to begin. "We are going to start with a wizarding song. I trust most of you will know the tune, if not the words. We will then move on to muggle folk, then to musical theatre and if possible, rock! I have found some wonderful songs that aren't on the radio and were written for multiple voices. I found them exciting and I hope you all will too." Most of the Slytherins looked dubious about that, but everyone else seemed willing to give them a chance.

They did indeed begin with a song from the wizarding world. Harry, who had only really heard music at the Burrow, was at a complete loss. He could see he wasn't the only one however. There was of course, the slight issue that the majority of students could not read music.

"I am aware that most of you will just see scores as lines and dots that make little or no sense, correct?" There was a general murmur of assent and a lot of nodding. "There will be crash courses if you wish to learn, or you can learn by ear. For this however you will need an excellent memory for harmonies, which often comes naturally to some and is hard to learn." Many students looked at a loss as to what was being said. Malfoy rolled his eyes and Harry elbowed him, earning him an icy glare from Snape and the blonde boy. He saw Snape mouth the words '5 points from Gryffindor' and Harry gave him a look of pure loathing.

All the while Flitwick went on. For twenty more minutes he talked about the piece they were to be doing and the roles of each section. He handed out scores of the song, still talking as they were passed round. Harry's feet began to ache from staying still so long and he started fidgeting. He wasn't the only one; half the choir were shifting restlessly and several people had given up already and sat down again.

"Now!

If you'll all hold your copies in the optimum position I showed you," began Flitwick, pausing for those gathered to do so, "we shall begin!"

Everyone immediately saw the flaw in this plan; they hadn't actually been taught to read the music, how were they to sing it? Snape obviously saw this too. He cleared his throat.

"I suggest that we get those who can read it to sight-sing it first so everyone gets a feel for how it goes," he drawled lazily. Flitwick nodded enthusiastically.

"An excellent idea! If you can read it, sing it!" Snape began to play and Harry had to grudgingly admit he was good. There was no tension in his face as he moved his fingers skilfully across the keys and he seemed confident.

About eight students (Harry was impressed there were so many to be honest) sang, Hermione and Malfoy included. He had no idea how 'Mione had learnt to read music, but he said nothing about it.

It was a catchy tune and Harry knew it would be stuck in his head for the rest of the day. How awkward would it be if he started singing in Charms? He doubted Flitwick would mind, but he would feel humiliated.

He listened to the eight try to harmonise, and he felt inclined to admit that, although quiet, they were decent at sight-singing. He couldn't understand the lines and dots; they just looked like squiggles to him. He started off attempting to follow but got lost immediately and found himself listening to Malfoy sing.

He was by far the most confident, though he seemed to be struggling with the higher notes. Harry found himself almost entranced by the blonde's voice, but stared at the floor instead of his pointed face. Malfoy stumbled on a note and Harry didn't smirk or sneer, but felt a stab of irritation at the sound being interrupted. It was then replaced by both confusion and annoyance at feeling anything but hate for the Slytherin as he was so used to doing.

It was not uncommon for Malfoy to uncover feelings of irritation in Harry, but he was unused to them coming from enjoying something the blonde boy had done. Wait, did he just admit that he actually _liked_ something about _Malfoy?_ It didn't seem possible.

_Although,_ Harry though, _he does have shiny hair and gorgeous eyes._ He then mentally kicked himself for thinking such things, his cheeks flushing and hoping desperately that no one would notice. He saw Malfoy glance at him curiously out of the corner of his eye but ignored him.

The song came to an end and the students who'd stayed silent applauded.

"Very good, very good! Especially for a first run thorough, I'm impressed!" exclaimed Flitwick. "Now, we'll go through each section's part separately and you shall try to learn by ear. We will start with bass, whose part is essentially the same as the tenor's, so together!"

Malfoy raised a hand lazily into the air. "Sir, may I sing tenor? Alto doesn't suit my voice," he drawled when called upon.

"You can say that again," muttered Greengrass. Malfoy shot her a glare and much to everyone's surprise (at least those who saw), so did Harry. Malfoy missed this, but no doubt he would be filled in sooner rather than later.

Flitwick nodded his consent for Malfoy to move parts and the boy gave a smile he reserved for teachers. It suited him, Harry noted, he should smile more often. Harry rolled his eyes at himself and turned his attention to Flitwick, who started to go through their part. Harry tried to tune himself to Malfoy, and felt he was successful considering it as his first attempt.

"Now, try to follow your parts as I move on. I wish we could spend longer on each part but we're running short of time," Flitwick squeaked when they'd finished. Harry quietly hummed his own part underneath the atltos and then sopranos. When the latter was half way through the bell rang signalling the end of the hour.

There was an immediate rush to pack copies away and leave as people grabbed bags and raced for the door. Flitwick sighed at the lack of enthusiasm, but Harry felt it was unheard by all but him. Malfoy shoved past him to get to his own bag and Harry stuck out a foot. It was immensely satisfying to see Malfoy fall, his cheeks burning. There was a smatter of snickering across the room from remaining students. Harry walked casually passed, whistling the recently learnt tune innocently.

Something grabbed his legs and he looked down with an exclamation of surprise, just before Malfoy jerked his hand, and Harry's leg, backwards, causing Harry to fall with an 'oomph. He barely avoiding hitting his chin on the floor. Twisting onto his back he kicked the Slytherin in the face.

"Potter!" Roared Snape as Malfoy clapped a hand over his nose. His free hand balled into a fist and punched Harry square in the face before he realised what was going on. He clapped a hand to his eye before being physically lifted off the ground to his feet. His eye felt like it was pulsing in his head and he was sure he would have a black eye. He scrabbled at the neck of his robes as he was lifted, gasping to breath.

"Fifty points will be taken, each. Surely you know by now that fighting is forbidden? What were you thinking?" Snape snapped, letting Harry go. Malfoy was still on the ground, blood trickling between his fingers and apparently in shock. "For goodness' sake Draco, go to the Hospital Wing!" Snape said in exasperation. Malfoy scrambled to his feel and bolted for the door. Harry snickered after him and felt someone tap him, a little harder than necessary, on the head with a book.

"Ow, what was that for? He started it," he said to Hermione as she handed him his bag.

"Oh you know well enough it was your fault Harry. Why did you have to trip him up?" she asked, sounding almost as exasperated as Snape. Harry grinned.

"It was funny when he fell though, wasn't it?" Hermione tried to hide a smile and pulled him by the arm out of the room. They sought out Ron in the Gryffindor common room and went down to lunch together once their bags were dropped off. Harry filled Ron in with what happened when he was asked about his rapidly blackening eye. Ron laughed and Hermione gave him a disapproving look. Malfoy walked into the Hall halfway through; nose fixed but looking a little dishevelled.

Harry felt a flash of guilt, and expected it showed on his face as Hermione gave him a smirk. Harry ignored it and went on with his lunch, talking merrily as it went on. When they were all done they went outside to enjoy what might be the last nice weather that term.


	5. Chapter 5

_My sincerest apologies for the lateness of this chapter! I've had a week of mock exams (7 condensed into 4 days! It was hell) and I've had little time to myself. But better late than never! This chapter goes back a little to the end of their fight in choir. Enjoy!_

_Song belongs to Team Starkid, characters to J.K. Rowling and plot to me._

* * *

Draco felt himself falling forwards and barely managed not to cry out as the floor rushed towards him. He flung out his arms to break his fall and just missed smashing his handsome face against the hard stone floor. He reached out with an arm and grabbed Potter's leg. He jerked backwards and saw the git fall. He then felt a blinding pain and heard a crunch. There was a burning feeling in his nose and it began to throb.

He clapped a hand over the middle of his face and felt wetness. He was bleeding! He heard Snape shout, as if from a great distance. He blinked stupidly, wondering if he had hit his head. He felt dizzy. He vaguely heard points being taken but he didn't look up. He heard Snape say his name and snapped back to the present. He heard the command issued and scrambled to his feet, already on the move.

Draco ran through out of the choir room, face and nose burning. He ripped open a portrait hiding a passage and hurried down it to the fourth floor and hospital wing. He burst through the doors, eyes brimming with tears of fury and embarrassment.

"Fix it!" He yelled, causing several patients to look up in surprise. He glared at them and Madam Pomfrey bustled over.

"Sit down Mr. Malfoy. What happened?" She said tiredly, ushering him over to a vacant bed.

"Potter kicked me in the face." He grumbled.

"He must be very flexible," she commented, seemingly to herself. Draco rolled her eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous; he tripped me up, I pulled him to the floor and he lashed out." He explained, as if he was talking to a young child. She fixed his nose with a wave of her wand and handed him a flask of evil-smelling potion.

"Don't you patronise me little man," she warned, walking away to see to her more serious patients. Draco sighed and rubbed his still sore nose before downing the flask and forcing himself to swallow the vile stuff. He tried not to gag as it went down, the now empty flask almost dropping from his grasp. He gasped when it at last disappeared and reached for a glass of water from the jug that was always on the bed side table.

He grimaced as the taste refused to leave and got up off the bed he'd sat on. The pain in his nose subsided somewhat and he smacked his lips uncomfortably. Draco only then realised his bag was still in the choir room. Cursing quietly so Madam Pomfrey would not hear him he checked his shirt for blood, deemed it clean and headed back the way he'd come.

He collected his things straight to lunch. He didn't see his friends on the way so assumed they'd gone without him. His clothes were dusty and he still felt the faintest of aches in his nose. He ran a hand through his normally perfect hair and went into the Hall.

He didn't see Potter as he passed him and so missed the guilty expression. He was hailed by his friends and he slid into a seat next to Pansy, who looked him over critically.

"What happened to you?" She asked.

"Why, is there blood on me? I thought I'd checked!" he looked down anxiously at his clothes, but saw no stain.

"No, should there be? I just meant you're pale and your hair isn't as neat as normal."

"Oh, that." He said moodily, picking at the chicken leg on his plate. He put on a fake smile which looked extremely real and lost no time in regaling the Slytherins in his fight with Potter. They laughed and sneered at the Gryffindor as Draco dramatized the ordeal a great deal and made it sound much more interesting than it had been.

Not for the first time during a meal he watched the Golden Trio out of the corner of his eye. He noticed a cluster of the Gryffindors leaning towards Harry, who looked awkward with the attention and who still had a black eye. Draco smirked and eventually saw the group turn back to their own lunch. Potter began laughing and talking with his two side-kicks and Draco watched them leave, not feeling the usual hatred towards the trio.

"Draco? Draco, are you even listening to me?" Pansy sighed.

"What?" Draco said guiltily. He had not been paying attention to Pansy's prattling. She rolled her eyes at him.

"You were eyeing up Potter again weren't you?" Draco felt a wave of cold go through him and if possible he went even paler.

"What?" He said quietly.

"What? You always do it." Pansy made a face of confusion mingled with concern. "You watch them eat then glare at them as they leave. I don't really understand what you've got against them anymore. I mean, Potter refused your friendship years ago! And it's your fault they're not nice to us." Pansy said matter-of-factly, not looking up from her food.

"Oh, right…yeah, I guess I was." Said Draco, slightly confused. He knew he did that, why had he felt cold at that? He shrugged it off. "You know, I'm not very hungry, I might just go outside. See you there?"

Pansy looked at him, almost seeming as if she was gauging his mood. "Ok," she said finally. He raised an eyebrow.

"Satisfied with what you see?" he said, lip curling. She laughed and gave him a playful shove.

"Sod off, go bully the mud-blood with better grades than you," she teased. Draco scowled at her and slid off the bench, standing up and heading out the doors, giving Pansy a last grin over his shoulder. He headed into the bright sunshine and felt himself relax immediately.

He made a beeline for a large beech tree by the lake, but stopped when he saw the shade already occupied. The last three people he wanted to see stopped talking as he was spotted and looked up at him. Surprisingly enough, only Weasley's eyes showed distaste or even hatred. Granger was carefully avoiding his eyes and Potter…well, he looked confused and a little wary. Draco didn't react. He kept his face blank as whilst his insides twisted. He turned and walked away, past the big tree and the Gryffindors to a spot further along the shore.

He didn't look back up at the castle and so missed Pansy on the entrance hall steps, watching him. She frowned and went back inside. She knew Draco was in the mood to be alone, and she wasn't going to annoy him; she'd been on that end of the stick one too many times to want to do it again She went back to lunch with Crabbe and Goyle, keeping the topic away from Draco.

The blonde haired boy had found an empty patch of grass and sat down, flinging his bag down to one side and leaning back against a moss covered statue. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his chin on them, arms wrapped around his shins. He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to sort through the messy knot of emotions inside his.

There was anger, resentment and jealously for sure. Those were the norm when Draco ran into Potter and co. though. What wasn't normal was the confusion, and the emotions he couldn't put a name to. Damn that boy for making him feel like that. His feelings were changing so fast he had no idea what to think.

In the end he decided not to think at all. Pulling his bag towards him, he pulled out the copy of the choir song. It had his name on in Flitwick's handwriting. Some parchment fell out and he picked it up, frowning. It was two copies of another piece, and one had Potter's name on. He scowled at his and scanned through it.

It was a duet. One for two male voices, and by the look of it, it would stretch his voice to the limits. He sighed a stood up. He cast a protective charm on his bag to stop anyone stealing it and trudged back to the tree. He came to a stop, once again, in front of the three Gryffindors. Once again they stopped talking to look up at him. He gave a fake smile and sat down. Three pairs of eyes looked shocked and he laughed coldly.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to socialise," he drawled, holding out the duet for Potter to take. "It would seem dear old Flitwick has decided to give us a duet." He said icily. To his surprise, Granger made a gleeful noise.

"I told you so!" She cried happily. "I told he'd do this!" she said. Potter scowled at her, and Draco found himself admiring how well the boy smirked. He gave an almost identical one and saw Weasley frown.

Potter took the music and scanned it. Draco was surprised.

"Can you read it?" he asked, receiving a shake of his head in reply. Potter handed it to Granger, who read it.

"And you can?" he said, less surprised. He doubted there was anything the mudblood couldn't do.

"Yes," she said vaguely, still reading the score. "My parents bought me piano lessons when I was little. It's one of the things I miss most at Hogwarts." She ended.

"Well, you have the choir now-" Draco started. Granger's eyes widened in a warning and Weasley went red.

"You're in the choir too?!" He said, rather loudly. Hermione blushed and nodded. Draco frowned between them before looking to Potter. He was lying down, eyes closed and a slightly pained expression on his face, as if tired of their bickering. He gave a sympathetic smile, which went unnoticed by all and the other two went on arguing. He rolled his eyes and moved to sit next to his sworn enemy since first year.

"Hey," he said, too quietly for anyone but Potter to hear. The boy on the ground started and his eyes flew open in a heartbeat. He looked around wildly and sighed in relief when he spotted Draco.

"Oh, it's you," he yawned, sitting up and running a hand through his already messy hair.

"Do they always do this?" he asked. Potter nodded and looked over at them, a bored expression on his face.

"It gets old fast." He looked back at Draco. "This one'll take a while but they'll be friends again by dinner." He murmured. Draco gave a quiet laugh and picked up Potter's discarded music, flipping it onto his knees. He got a nod of thanks.

"Want to show me how it goes?" He asked, not seeming to realise he was sat talking civilly to Draco Malfoy, whom he'd hated, no, still hated, more than Dudley from the moment they'd met.

"Okay," Draco agreed. "You start the piece and I join in later. I'll try and sing your part for you." He sat up straighter and took a deep breath.

_I can't remember dad,  
And I can't remember mum  
Aunts and uncles aren't quite the same,_

_But I had him, and life seemed fair,  
Yes, I had him, and he was there  
To give me strength, show concern,  
Ask for nothing in return,_

_Say hello, talk me through  
Do the things fathers should do_

_And I'm missing you,  
I'm just missing you_

He stopped there, the first verse and chorus done. Potter had a look of intense concentration on his face and Draco laughed.

"Well, that shows how much you pay attention in class," he smirked. Potter ignored him.

"Sing it with me so I know if I go wrong," he said.

"Say please," Draco drawled in a teasing voice, earning him a glare.

"Do you say please to your house elf, Malfoy?" Potter snapped. Draco glowered but chose to ignore it. He would have to get him back later for comparing him to such an ugly creature.

"Fine, I'll sing it with you" He said shortly. "Do you remember the first note?" He gave it anyway, partly to confirm with himself he was right.

Together, they repeated the first part and Draco was impressed Potter remembered it so well. He didn't let it show though. He gave a curt nod at the end of the chorus and went on to sight-sing his own part.

_There it is, he's gone__  
__And he's hung me out to dry__  
__The joy he said he felt, well, I guess it was a lie__  
__But when I had him, my life was fine__  
__When I had him, he was mine__He'd share his thoughts be a friend__  
__Stick with me until the end__  
__Watch a movie, roller-skate__  
__Fill the world with fear and hate_

He looked up to see Potter staring at him, but he looked away quickly. Draco gave him a curious look and the Gryffindor blushed slightly. Draco shrugged.

"We sing the next bit together," he shifted round so he was sitting next to Potter. "See how there are two dots on the same line, their staves going different ways?" He pointed out what he was talking about and Potter nodded. "That means two people sing it. The lower part, that's you, sings the note underneath. I will be the one on top." Draco felt that was as much as he could teach Potter about music without a piano or at least an instrument to sound the notes and teach the other boy to read them.

"They harmonise, I'll sing yours again."

_And I'm missing you__  
__I'm just missing you__Now I'm all alone__  
__Now you're gone for good__  
__Now I'm stuck right here wishing I understood_

"Then we do alternate lines,"

_Harry: You gave me hope when my spells weren't right__Draco: You gave me someone to hold every night__Harry: And I'm missing you__Draco: I'm just missing you__Together: I'm just missing you__  
__I'm just missing you__  
_

Potter smiled, looking like he was in a world of his own. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Are you even listening?" Potter nodded.

"I can sing it back to you if you want. And I'd do it better." He challenged, smiling.

"Oh could you now?" Draco said; lips curling into a half smile.

"Oh yeah," Potter said, grinning.

"Challenge accepted! From the top?" Potter nodded, eyes bright.

Together they sang, and Granger and Weasley finally stopped bickering, hearing them. They watched and listened to the two boys battle it out, exchanging a look of utter disbelief. What had happened to the bitter hatred between the rivals? Ron made a face of complete confusion and Hermione had a calculating look on her face.

When the boys finished singing, they rocked back onto the grass and laughed.

"I totally won that, Potter!" Laughed Draco, triggering a noise of indignation out of Potter.

"I think not you filthy little ferret!" He retorted, though there was no real venom in it. Draco just roared with laughter; an unusual sight and sound, enough to cause stares from passers-by. Collin Creevey stopped dead with his friends and snapped a picture of two very confused looking Gryffindors staring at the two best known rivals in the school laughing on the ground together.

Weasley eventually cleared his throat. "Err, Harry, mate," he started, hesitantly. "What's going on?"


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Ooh, this is getting fun to write! I also realised I made a mistake in a previous chapter; there are male sopranos, and I said alto was the highest male part! Err…oops…and my apologies for the really long gap in the updates; RL caught up with me; mock week, Christmas and Birthday shopping, school concerts, Christmas etc. etc. -_- Oh and half of this was written at one in the morning, so might not all make sense :D A little warning; this one contains one swear word :O**_

_**Characters and settings don't belong to me, any songs included will belong to Starkid and I can only claim the plot as my own.**_

_Ron cleared his throat. "Err, Harry, mate," he started, hesitantly. "What's going on?"_

Harry looked up, still grinning. "Hm?" He frowned as he realised just who he was sitting with. "Oh…" He shrugged. "Why do we argue with him?" He said, indicating Malfoy with a jerk of his head.

"Because he calls Hermione…" Ron looked at her, "something awful, he bullies us, is arrogant, he tried to get Hagrid fired, he's overdramatic, his parents are Death Eaters," he hissed, "and he's a Slytherin." Ron added a glare for good measure. Harry looked a little sheepish, glancing at Malfoy.

"True…" Harry was saved from answering further by the bell. Malfoy took that as his cue to leave. He summoned his stuff, slung his bag over his shoulder and was halfway back to the castle by the time the trio were ready to go. They walked back up, a tense silence hanging over them. Together the three went off to Transfiguration.

Harry was glad neither Ron nor Hermione brought up lunch again, and they went through a cheerful afternoon; Hermione perfecting the new spells while she scorned at Harry and Ron's pathetic attempts. They just laughed it off, and managed to hex Malfoy across the room, giving him multi-coloured eyebrows. Since the professor didn't see who did it, no points could be deducted.

They laughed their way back to the Gryffindor common room, the strange happenings at lunch forgotten. They took their favourite seats by the fire and pulled out work at Hermione's insistence that they should get some done before dinner. They grudgingly agreed and spent an hour and a half working, chatting mildly over the top of their parchments.

For a while, things were normal; lessons and rehearsals continued as normal, and Harry and Malfoy traded insults as usual. They did lack some of the usual heat, but no one seemed to notice. For a week and a half Harry had a quiet time at Hogwarts; a very unusual occurrence. He was just waiting for something to happen one Friday, when he got an owl.

_Potter,_

_Flitwick contacted me and said we have to have that duet perfected by next rehearsal…which is in three days._

_Meet me on the 7__th__ floor in front of that painting of the trolls training for the ballet in five minutes, bring your music_

_D. Malfoy_

Harry swore, startling the eagle owl and Hermione. He ignored her curious look and bolted upstairs, dropping the letter on the table, grabbed his copy and pelted out the common room. He could hear Ron and Hermione shouting after him, but he didn't answer.

As he approached the requested corridor, Harry slowed to a walk and calmed his pounding heart; it had been a long sprint. When he reached the tapestry asked, Malfoy was waiting for him, leaning against the wall and examining his nails. Harry took a second to appreciate just how camp he looked with the perfect hair and manicured nails. He snorted and Malfoy looked up, looking unimpressed.

"Something funny Potter?"

"Not at all Malfoy," he said. "Are we using the room of requirement?" he asked. Malfoy quickly hid his look of surprise.

"You know of it?" He said. Harry nodded but did not offer an explanation.

"Are you summoning it, or shall I?" Malfoy didn't answer, but paced three times past the painting. When a door appeared he stopped and opened it, waiting for Harry to pass him.

"Ladies first," Harry sneered.

"After you then," Malfoy said coldly. Harry could tell it was not going to be a fun session as it had been before. He sighed and pushed past the other boy, to see a huge, airy room with large windows showing the Forbidden Forest and the sun setting; dipping slowly behind the mountains around the school. Harry stared in awe at the sight, until Malfoy whacked him on the back of the head with his music.

"Come on, practice time." Malfoy seated himself at a grand piano in the middle of the room, the only decoration present. Harry scowled and stood behind him, smacking the blonde in retaliation. He heard a sharp intake of breath, as if Malfoy was trying to stay calm.

"You know the basics for how this goes; do you remember your part and the tune?" He asked in a forced calm voice.

"Yes…" Harry said, almost as a question. Malfoy turned his head to look at him, looking stony faced and rather pissed off. Harry found it hard to look away from the stormy grey eyes…

"Stop gawking and give me a proper answer damn you!" Malfoy snapped. Harry sighed and sat on an armchair he wished for, even as he began to sit.

"Fine; no, I do not exactly remember my part," he admitted. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Do you know how hard it is for me not to hit you right now?" He said, turning back to the piano. "That was a rhetorical question Potter!" He said when Harry opened his mouth to answer. Merlin this boy was an idiot. "I assume you brought your music?"

"Yes, but I can't very well read it now, can I?" He said in an imitation of Malfoy's most haughty voice.

"That is why we are here," He said in a voice trembling with anger.

"Malfoy," Harry said hesitantly. "What's the matter?" Malfoy whipped round to him, face a pool of rage and hurt.

"That is _none of your business_." He hissed quietly. Harry had to admit he was a little scared.

"I'm sorry; I just don't like seeing anyone like this, even you." Malfoy sneered.

"Even me hm? Well that is interesting," he said smoothly. "But not the reason we're here."

"Yes, but with my experience, teaching isn't easy when you're in a foul mood. Take five minutes, have a drink and calm down." Malfoy looked about to scream at him, but Harry intervened. "Just, trust me on this." He said, eyes imploring and full of confidence and quiet confidence. Malfoy backed down and nodded jerkily. Harry pulled him up by the hand then asked the room for a bar. He went behind it.

"What do you want? We can make anything," he said. Malfoy followed him over and sat down heavily in s bar stool.

"Anything. Mix me a cocktail that doesn't contain alcohol; if Severus catches me drunk in school again I'm screwed." He muttered. Harry raised an eyebrow and Malfoy just stared back. The anger seemed to have drained out of him, leaving him hollow. Harry pulled a non-alcoholic cocktail book off a shelf and flipped through it.

"Perfect! Bear with me." He set to work pulling out bottles of various drinks and adding ice. He put the required items into a shaker and shook. It fizzed with magic and Harry dropped it, but it didn't fall. It shook itself in mid-air, and Harry chuckled. He made himself a second one, but not so strong in diluted firewhiskey. When Malfoy's stopped he poured it into a glass and added a little umbrella. Malfoy just gave him a 'wtf?' look. Harry snickered.

"Well why not? Now drink up," he ordered.

"You sure this is safe?" He asked. Harry pretended to look offended, and Malfoy obliged. He took a tentative sip then downed the whole thing.

"Give it a few minutes." Harry advised. "Go sit on the sofa."

"What sofa?" Malfoy started to say, but a plush green and silver sofa appeared in front of a roaring fire. The room seemed to expand every time something new was wished for, but neither were complaining. Harry poured his own cocktail out and sat on the plush armchair he'd created earlier, but it was now situated opposite Malfoy.

"Now relax," he said gently, sipping his cocktail, and closing his eyes, leaning back against the cushions. It was not his plan to drift off, but that he did. The glass slipped from his hand and landed on a table Malfoy hastily conjured. He did debate whether or not waking Potter up was worth it, but before he came to a decision not to, just before he followed the example and stretched out, falling asleep quickly.

Harry was the first to wake. He woke with a start and bolted out the chair. He was disorientated until what had happened came back to him. It seemed almost midday, and Harry filled with dread for a moment until he remembered it was the weekend. He let out a breath of relief and kicked the sofa that Malfoy was still asleep on.

"Get up ferret face!" Malfoy's eyes flew open, but he did not bolt off the sofa like Harry had. He did yawn widely, only to stop halfway and seem to realise where he was. He looked up to see Harry looking amused and staring down at him with his arms crossed. "Have a good sleep?"

"What time is it?" He frowned.

"Tempus…quarter to twelve-" Malfoy yelped and leapt off the sofa, "On Saturday. Calm down, we're not late for anything."

"How do you know? For all you know I have Quidditch practice."

"No you don't. Not until four this afternoon, two hours after Ravenclaw. Then tomorrow it's us then you again, leaving the Hufflepuffs to get up really early to use the pitch or go out when it's dark." Malfoy gawped at him.

"Why the fuck do you know that?" He said incredulously. Harry shrugged.

"I need to know it." Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" Harry nodded and turned to the piano.

"If you want a shower, the room provided a bathroom and spare robes overnight, but I'd like to get on with this personally." He stated, indicating the piano. Malfoy nodded and went to sit at the stool, the bar and living room space fading out gradually.

For three and a half hours, Malfoy taught Harry to read music. He got far, managing to identify every note in the duet without much hesitation. He learnt to pitch notes of different intervals and how to not go flat when singing. When they got hungry, Harry nipped out to Hogsmeade to get food as the room refused to feed them, returning within fifteen minutes, much to Malfoy's amazement. He didn't bother asking and they pressed on. By the time Malfoy had to leave for Quidditch practice, they had the first two verses of the song down.

Harry was proud of himself as he and Malfoy parted ways and he headed back to Gryffindor tower. He didn't even consider that Ron and Hermione would have been searching for him. As he stepped through to the common room, he immediately had a mouthful of bushy brown hair and an earful of both his best friends exclaiming 'Harry!'

"Err, hi?" He said, a little confused. It took him a moment to realise what was going on. When he did he smiled guiltily.

"Where were you?!" Hermione demanded. "Have you been with Malfoy all night?" She asked. Harry nodded and both his friends looked disgusted and confused.

"We fell asleep, and woke up at midday. He then taught be to read music, pitch notes and we've done the first couple of verses of the duet. But he was in a foul mood last night so I made him a cocktail and we just fell asleep." He summarised. Ron and Hermione shared a look. "What?" Harry asked.

"Well…" Ron started hesitantly. "You've been gone a while, are you sure you two didn't hex each other or anything?"

"What?" Said Harry. "I won't say why would he do that, it's a stupid question," Ron and Hermione nodded. "But really, I don't think we know the real Malfoy. He's not like the person he normally is when there's no one else to see! Even the other week when he came over at lunch he was nice, wasn't he?" He cut off his friends' objections. "Look, I'm not saying he's faultless; he's really not! He's done a lot of bad things, but he's not his father."

"But Harry, how do you know?" Came a voice from behind him. He looked around and saw Ginny. "How can you know he's not just trying to get close to you then he'll hand you over to You-Know-Who?" She asked, brushing past him to stand with her brother in front of him. Harry didn't know what to say. He just shrugged.

"I don't know, but I never will unless I find out, right?"

Ginny sighed. "Just, be careful, ok? I know what it's like to get tricked into thinking you can trust someone." She said.

"Yeah, but this is _Malfoy._ He's not powerful enough to possess me, and I think I can handle him trying to drag me to Voldemort." He said gently. "But yes, I will be careful," he said quickly when Ginny opened her mouth to continue. He smiled at them all. Hermione was the first to drop it, though she clearly didn't want to.

"Anyway, I don't suppose you had lunch, did you Harry? I mean, the Room of Requirement, where I assume you were, doesn't provide food." Hermione said briskly.

"He did actually," said Seamus from an armchair by Harry's elbow.

"How do you know?" Several voices said together.

"I saw him coming back up the stairs carrying paper bags of food from the Three Broomsticks," Seamus stated. "No idea how he got out, but hey, it's Harry! He's always doing things he shouldn't, right?" he grinned. Everyone made noises of agreement, and the two Weasleys, Harry and Hermione went to sit down.

Until dinner they talked of nothing in particular, and together they went down for food. They sat at the Gryffindor table, situated next to the Slytherin one that time. Malfoy took a seat behind them, laughing with Pansy Parkinson. He sneered at the foursome and sat behind them, bragging loudly of how well he'd done in practice. Ron fought the urge to turn around and punch him. Hermione merely rolled his eyes.

"You really want to be friends with _that_?" Ginny said, looking pointedly at Harry and brandishing her fork in his face.

"Who said anything about friends?" Harry asked, grinning. Ginny blushed a little and went back to her food. Harry smiled. "You have a point though, he's still a douchebag." He grinned, digging into pudding. "I'm amazed I'm not fat by the end of a week with all the food they give us here," he said, not stopping eating. As some as the last morsel of treacle tart was in his mouth, he heard Ginny cry a warning, and he looked up just before someone grabbed him by the ear and dragged him out his seat then out of the Great Hall. Ron, Hermione and Ginny all leapt to their feet, followed by half of Harry's year and followed them out, screaming at Malfoy who ignored them and hurried on.

He took them through a passage and locked it behind them with a flick of his wand. "Come on, we can't keep them away long-"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Harry yelled, twisting out of Malfoy's grasp and pushing his away. Malfoy turned round, sneering.

"I think I'm trying to get you to come practice with me."

"You could have just asked, you arsehole!" He screamed. His ear throbbed and his vision began to fade to red. "Did that fail to cross your mind?" he could hear his friends pounding on the entrance, which was just a blank stretch of wall on their side. He could hear a teacher shouting at them to get back to dinner, and cries of outrage and explanations. "Gryffindors will hate you more now, you know?" He said, stepping closer threateningly. He was taller than Malfoy by at least two inches, yet the Slytherin refused to cower. "What were you thinking?" He said in a dangerous voice, pressing close to Malfoy as threateningly as he could.

"I wanted a reaction from them." He admitted honestly. Harry was surprised.

"You could just have poked me or something and they would have tried to kill you."

"Do you like having so many bodyguards Potter?" Malfoy asked mildly. Harry punched him.

"At least I don't cower behind them like you do with Crabbe and Goyle," he hissed. Malfoy rubbed his cheek which was rapidly bruising and had a small cut on it.

"Muggle fighting, Potter? I didn't expect much more from _you_." Malfoy was very good at imitating Snape's drawl. Harry punched him in the stomach.

"For years, you've bullied me and my friends, and we've done nothing about it. Well no more! You're royally pissed off the majority of my house, and we are not ones to take that lightly." At the back of his mind he was surprised that Hermione hadn't managed to open to passage again. He wasn't sure the teachers were all aware that there was a passage there, so he didn't really expect them to burst through.

"Potter, I just can't stand your friends." Malfoy said in a small voice.

"Yeah, I know-"

"Just let me finish!" Malfoy snapped. Harry help up his hands.

"Fine, do continue." He said icily and Malfoy sighed, rubbing his face in frustration.

"Do you remember in first year, when I offered you my friendship?" He waited for Harry's nod and went on. "That was the worst day of my life. You were supposed to be _my_ friend, get into Slytherin and we'd grow up together. I grew up listening to stories like every child, but my stories were about you. You were the bad guy and you defeated the most powerful wizard in the world as a baby. I was taught to hate you, but I never did. I thanked you every night for killing the Dark Lord. My father would kill me if he knew." He took a deep breath and Harry frowned. Why was he telling him this? "I decided to offer you my friendship, and I know I did not come off overly friendly at the time-" Harry snorted but Malfoy ignored it. "But you crushed me that day. I know all I knew about you was biased, but I wanted to form my own opinion and what I really wanted, what I still really want, is to say thank you."

Harry was stunned. He had not expected that. He was speechless.

"Say something, please!" Malfoy implored after several minutes of tense silence.

"Just, give me a minute." He said, mulling over what he'd heard. "Why did you have to tell me this now? Why here? Why bother dragging me out of dinner to tell me?" He said, realising the other side of the wall was now silent. Malfoy shrugged.

"Why do I need a reason?" He said. It didn't sound like the Malfoy he knew at all. He sounded small and insecure. "Did I go too far?" He asked.

"I don't know…" He said honestly. He didn't know what to think anymore…what was going on?


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: Song by P!nk, characters and setting owned by JK Rowling, I claim none of this but the plot as my own! Warning: this contains sh-t and the full word in the past tense…:D I must say, I do realise these songs were not out in the 1990's, but we don't have a story without them, so shush ;) Enjoy**_

After Malfoy's confession, Harry ran. He was never good at direct confrontation, and he needed to think; he needed space. He blasted open the passage entrance and ran past Ron, Hermione and Ginny, leaping up stairs three at a time until he got to the common room. He pelted to his dorm, grabbed his broom and ran up to the closest tower. He mounted and kicked off, heading for the Quidditch pitch.

For an hour he zipped round and round, letting the rapidly cooling air calm him and clear his head. Eventually Ginny came out and flew with him for a while. Harry was glad for the company; especially as she knew he didn't feel up to talking. She persuaded him in a few short words to come back inside and since he could no longer feel his fingers he obliged. She led him back to the common room, dissuading everyone from asking questions with a wonderful of one of her mum's looks.

Harry thanked her quietly and collapsed onto his bed, not seeing the letter on his duvet. He buried his head into the pillow and tried to fall asleep, still fully dressed. Ron came in at one point, asking if he was ok and telling him a letter arrived whilst he'd been out, but he ignored him, pretending to be asleep. He heard Ron retreat and sighed. He knew he would have to face Malfoy soon, and rolled onto his back, feeling for the letter. He found it and opened it, eyes tired and feeling very lethargic.

He read it;

_To H. Potter_

_I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you in an awkward situation, I'm just sick of this hatred._

Here the writing changed and there was a line of ink across the page, as if someone had snatched it from him and finished it for him.

_He holds a grudge against you, just because you refused his friendship. He's positive that you two are destined to be friends, because he's an idiot. If anyone but me, Draco and Blaise knew this, he would be mercilessly punished by the rest of the Slytherins. Therefore I am taking a great risk to tell you this and you had better appreciate it you Gryffindor swine._

_Have a good night,_

_Pansy and Draco_

Harry frowned at the parchment then sighed. He couldn't process everything right now. He would sleep on it and see how he felt in the morning. He changed and got into bed, placing the letter and his glasses on the bedside table. He drew the curtains around his bed and fell back on the pillow.

For two hours, he tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. The other four boys came in and went to sleep but Harry could not. In the end he got up, slipped his trainers and dressing gown on, grabbed the marauder's map and his wand, picked up the letter for good measure and heading silently down to the common room. He slipped out the hole, activating the map and studying it by wandlight. The castle's corridors were basically deserted. Only the first three floors were currently being patrolled. Harry headed off down the empty corridor and found himself letting his feet take him where they would. He found himself at the entrance to the Room of Requirement and he sighed. He slid down the wall and leant his head back against the hard stone, facing the picture of the dancing trolls.

Not sure what he wanted, Harry just sat there. For half an hour he sat in the shadows, mulling over what had happened earlier. He was startled out of his thoughts by footsteps. He extinguished his wand and stayed silent, hoping he blended into the shadows enough not to be noticed, eyes peeled to see who was coming.

It was Malfoy. Harry's heart fluttered and his stomach felt like it had fallen through his feet. Malfoy summoned the Room, and Harry slipped silently after him, willing the room to hide him in shadow. He slid along the wall quietly, away from the door, letting it close quietly. The Room had a similar layout to earlier, but there was more than just a piano now; it was filled with instruments. There was also a bed in one corner, but he didn't see that.

There were score books of all types-musicals, Disney, soundtracks to films he'd never even heard of, muggle songs, wizard songs, bands from both worlds- all over shelves lining the walls and there was manuscript paper piled high all over the floor. There were guitars, pianos, flutes, clarinets, saxophones, drums from all over the world, a drum kit, percussion, a whole string section and a number of brass instruments Harry couldn't have named if his life depended on it. He stayed hidden as Malfoy sat at the piano. Malfoy laughed and Harry jumped at the sudden noise.

Ghostly figures appeared behind several instruments, and Harry watched in amazement as they began to play. It was a good tune, and soon Malfoy started to sing.

* * *

Draco was confused. He slouched back to the Slytherin common room, where he was greeted by Pansy. He told her what had happened, and she insisted he write a note to Potter. He grudgingly agreed, and drafted several. Pansy read one and snatched his final edition off him, pulling out a quill and finishing it with Draco complaining she'd fill it with nonsense. She sent it off before he could read it and danced out his way as he lunged for her.

His evening went better than Potter's; he got work done and played chess with Blaise. It lasted a long time, and the spectators eventually got bored and wandered off. By the time Draco eventually won, most people had gone to bed. He packed away his stuff, laughing and teasing Blaise about appalling chess skills.

"You coming down to bed?" Blaise asked.

"No Blaise, I've told you before, you're just not my type!" He winked. Blaise shoved him playfully.

"You know what I mean," he chuckled.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a bit, just let me finish up here," he said, still grinning. Blaise left with a wave and Draco vaulted over a sofa towards the door as soon as he'd disappeared down the stairs. He ripped open the entrance and walked swiftly up to the Room. He was half hoping to see Potter, but didn't really expect to. He sighed and summoned a room identical to his bedroom at home with a few extras (namely the majority of an orchestra). He stepped inside and relaxed immediately as a sense of calm familiarity washed over him. He glided over to the piano and sat down. He could see some of his own compositions littered around and laughed. He hadn't expected such an accurate copy of his room. He flicked his robes out and placed his hands on the keys, smiling at the bed in the corner.

He began to play, not surprised when other instruments joined in. He played a muggle song.

_White knuckles and sweaty palms from hanging on too tight  
Clench of jaw, I've got another headache again tonight  
Eyes on fire, eyes on fire, and the burn from all the tears  
I've been crying, I've been crying, I've been dying over you  
Tie a knot in the rope, trying to hold, trying to hold,  
But there's nothing to grab so I let go_

_I think I've finally had enough, I think I maybe think too much  
I think this might be it for us (blow me one last kiss)  
You think I'm just too serious, I think you're full of sh-t  
My head is spinning so (blow me one last kiss)Just when it can't get worse, I had a sh-t day (no!)  
You had a sh-t day (no!), we've had a sh-t day (no!)  
I think that life's too short for this  
I'll pack my ignorance and bliss  
I think I've had enough of this, Blow me on last kiss._

_I won't miss all of the fighting that we always did,  
Take it in, I mean what I say when I say there is nothing left  
I am sick, whiskey-dick, no more battles for me  
You'll be calling a trick, cause you'll no longer sleep  
I'll dress nice, I'll look good, I'll go dancing alone  
I will laugh, I'll get drunk, I'll take somebody home_

_I think I've finally had enough, I think I maybe think too much  
I think this might be it for us (blow me one last kiss)  
You think I'm just too serious, I think you're full of sh-t  
My head is spinning so (blow me one last kiss)  
Just when it can't get worse, I had a sh-t day (no!)  
You had a sh-t day (no!), we've had a sh-t day (no!)  
I think that life's too short for this,  
I'll pack my ignorance and bliss  
I think I've had enough of this. Blow me on last kiss._

_I will do what I please, anything that I want  
I will breathe, I won't breathe, I won't worry at all  
You will pay for your sins, you'll be sorry my dear  
All the lies, all the wise, will be crystal clear  
I think I've finally had enough, I think I maybe think too much  
I think this might be it for us (blow me one last kiss)_

_You think I'm just too serious, I think you're full of sh-t  
My head is spinning so (blow me one last kiss)  
Just when it can't get worse, I had a sh-t day (no!)  
You had a sh-t day (no!), we've had a sh-t day (no!)  
I think that life's too short for this, I'll pack my ignorance and bliss  
I think I've had enough of this. Blow me on last kiss_

_Blow me on last kiss  
Blow me on last kiss  
Just when it can't get worse, I had a sh-t day (no!)  
You had a sh-t day (no!), we've had a sh-t day (no!)  
I think that life's too short for this, I'll pack my ignorance and bliss  
I think I've had enough of this. Blow me on last kiss…_

He faded out and sighed in relief. He'd sung his heart out, admittedly a fifth or so lower than the original, but he'd done himself proud and it had relaxed him more than anything else would have done.

* * *

Harry watched, mesmerised as Malfoy sang. He didn't recognise the song, but it was amazing. At the end the band faded with Malfoy's ringing voice and Harry stepped out of the shadows.

"Will you teach me?"

* * *

Draco almost shat himself in surprise.

"Potter!" He spat, more surprised than angry. "What the devil do you think you're doing here?" He scowled. "How did you get in?"

"Through the door," Potter said stupidly. Draco just looked at him, waiting for an explanation and Potter shrugged. "I slipped in before the door closed. You're a really good singer Malfoy…what song was that?"

"Blow Me," he said, "One Last Kiss" he added hastily at Potter's amused look. "It's by P!nk. She's a muggle singer." He said quietly. Potter looked surprised.

"You know muggle singers? What?"

"I know quite a few; they often produce good songs. Though they've been getting worse progressively for ages." Potter snorted.

"How would you know?" He didn't grace this with an answer, still rather shocked that Potter had even managed to get in without him realising. "Will you teach me that song?" The scruffy boy in a dressing gown repeated. Draco, whose hair was only slightly ruffled and who wore a tight fitting t-shirt and grey jeans, sighed.

"No –"

"Why?" Potter objected immediately.

"Because," he said forcefully, "I'm tired. And don't have the patience at the moment to teach you. Now get out! Go on, out!" He said.

Harry decided a tired Malfoy was not one he wanted to be around. He however, was not tired.

"No, I can't sleep. My bed was cold and I have a lot happening in my head," Malfoy muttered something along the lines of 'that's a first…' and Harry ignored him. "I'm exhausted but my brain refuses to switch off." He sulked.

"Well you're not getting into bed with me. Go find a house-elf to get you a hot water bottle or something you git," Malfoy drawled with a hint of his usual haughtiness. He tried to deny the feeling of temptation as he said the first. He squashed it, telling himself it was a stupid feeling.

"Teach me. Please?" Potter asked again. Draco scowled that he was still there.

"My answer won't change Potter." He said resolutely. "Get out. Please?" He said. Potter shook his head, infuriating him. "Why are you so stubborn?!"

"Gryffindor trait," the scruff ball grinned. Draco just sighed.

"What will it take to get rid of you?"

"Teach me," he said immediately.

"I'll teach you to respect me soon," he muttered.

"I heard that."

"Good."

Potter laughed. "You saw how quickly I learnt the duet before when I couldn't even read music, why not try this one?"

"Why are you so determined to spend time with me?" Draco asked slyly. Potter straightened his back.

"Because I want to see if I made a mistake in first year by refusing your friendship. You're not doing a great job of proving me wrong here. You're just as stubborn as me you know." He offered with a grin playing around his mouth. Draco was surprised but gratitude stirred deep inside him. A faint smile appeared on his face and he nodded slightly.

"Fine, I'll teach you. Sit." He ordered. He didn't miss Potter's look of pure delight as he turned away, and he smiled slightly despite the obvious manipulation at play. He resumed the starting chords, ghostly figures appearing again. He took Potter through it and had to admit then when he put his mind to something, he was a fast learner.

It made him wonder if Potter ever actually tried in classes. Admittedly he never failed anything but History of Magic, and most people failed that anyway, but he wasn't the top of the class by quite a way. By the end of an hour, Potter could sing most of it and Draco was even starting to harmonise. The Gryffindor was at last yawning though. He was happy-his huge grin indicated so- but he was definitely tired. Draco eventually stopped playing and glanced at the clock; it was half one already.

"Right, we can continue tomorrow after I've done that Charms essay, but now, you have got to go to bed." Potter mumbled a complaint but got up willingly enough. Rather than heading to the door, he spotted the bed in the corner and headed towards that. Draco grabbed his arm.

"Oh no you don't, that's my bed and you are most certainly not sleeping in there." He said sternly. Potter muttered something foul and Draco laughed. "Come on, I can help you back up to your tower, it's not even far," he said with a smile. Over the hour he'd become more proud of himself for proving he could be a decent person when provoked into it. Potter slumped tiredly against his shoulder and Draco led him home, chuckling. The exhausted student mumbled a password but the portrait refused to open, despite her being wide awake.

"Not while he's here! And you shouldn't be saying the password in front of him! He's a Slytherin," she whispered. Draco laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm not staying. He just couldn't walk properly himself," he began to explain.

"Why?!" She said in alarm. "What have you done to him?"

"Nothing," grumbled Potter, "I'm just tired. Let me in and he'll leave. I promise." He said, a little more clearly. The Fat Lady refused, demanding that Draco leave.

"Fine! Fine," he backed down, "Potter, I'll see you tomorrow; we need to work on that duet. Can you stumble into bed without help or shall I try and get help?" He teased. Potter shoved him, but being the pathetic Gryffindor he was it was very gentle. Draco smiled had walked back the way he had come.

"Draco," Potter said. He was startled to hear the use of his first name and turned back. "Thanks...and there's a passageway down to the dungeons from over there," he walked towards, then past Draco, stopping at a portrait of an old wizard with long white hair. "Here." He spoke a word and the painting swung forward with a smile. "It'll take you down close to your common room."

"How do you know where it is?" Draco asked, aghast. Potter just gave a maddening smile as if he knew something Draco didn't.

"Good night my little snake," he smirked. Draco looked at him suspiciously but left, the entrance swinging shut behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: My love to Kat who gave me the inspiration to write this; albeit at midnight the day before a party…great plan there Asphodel, great plan *headdesk* Again, I claim no songs or characters etc. etc. they all belong to their respective owners, love you all! P.S. Snape's birthday is 9**__**th**__** January, so let's just assume it's almost end of term and so nearly Janurary? I don't know, I'm not really paying attention to the timings in this…don't kill me D:**_

Draco walked back to the Common Room, his insides twisting painfully. Potter had called him Draco…only two people, not including his parents, called him that. Everyone else was too terrified to address him on first name terms. These thoughts occupied his mind all the way back to bed, where he quickly changed and curled up under the covers. It was definitely going to be an interesting term.

He woke the next morning with a groan as Blaise threw a pillow at him. He chucked it back and pulled his own over his head.

"Late night, my little snake?" Blaise chuckled. Draco sat up straight, wide awake and the pillow fell with a thud.

"What did you just call me?"

Blaise looked confused. "My little snake, why?" Draco just stared, before shaking his head.

"It's a small world," he murmured. Blaise shrugged it off as one of Draco's oddities.

"Get up ferret! It's Monday; lots of fun to be had," he gave a mischievous grin and disappeared out the door with a towel over one shoulder. Draco scowled before Potter drifted across his mind, and he smiled slightly; confusing himself even more.

He headed down to breakfast with his usual group, making fun of Hufflepuffs as they went past a group of first years and entering the Great Hall in good cheer. He looked across to the Gryffindor table and met Potter's eyes for a second. He didn't stop smiling before he moved on. He saw the Weasel and muggle one immediately turn to Potter in curiosity, evidently demanding an explanation. He snickered and decided there was nothing that could ruin that day.

It was double potions, and even Crabbe's disastrous attempts at the assignment, which ended in him growing a beak, didn't stop him being happy. At the end of class as they handed in their work and Draco's beak had been removed by Severus, he overheard Granger muttering to Potter.

"Does Malfoy seem happier than normal to you Harry? And he was smiling at you at breakfast" she said quietly. He looked back at them. Potter cast him a glance, his eyes lingering a little longer than necessary. Draco felt himself blush and stumbled slightly, hurrying back to his desk when he'd handed in his vial.

"Oh I don't know Hermione, is there a reason he can't be happy? Maybe he's finally gotten over an old grudge," Draco looked over his shoulder and gave Potter a small smile and a slight nod. The response was a knowing smile, quickly wiped as Granger looked between the pair of them. "And he wasn't smiling at me, he was just smiling and happened to look at me."

Draco sauntered out the potions room and into the library for break. For twenty minutes he browsed dusty volumes without much interest until the bell went, at which point he snapped shut a large volume on the uses of plants in potions and walked briskly to choir practice. He slid into a seat at the edge of his section and waited for the rest of them to file in.

Potter came in smiling, a flash of red hair at the door betraying that they'd arrived with a Weasley. He took the empty seat beside Draco, surprising him a little. He hid his smile and stared ahead at a blank stretch of wall.

They began and as a choir they worked on the piece they'd been assigned. Half way through the rehearsal Flitwick decided they'd done enough on that and called up him and Potter. They got up in sync and went opposite ways to the front. He saw the raven-haired boy sneer at Snape and had to hide a grin.

"Now, have you two been working on your duet? I haven't seen you in here at all recently."

"Yes professor, we've been working diligently. I think you shall be most impressed sir," Draco said smoothly before Potter even opened his mouth. He did not offer a further explanation but Flitwick did not seem to require one. He did notice a slight narrowing of the cold black eyes of the pianist, but nothing more was said.

"Well then, if you would like to regale us with it?" Flitwick squeaked, beating Snape in. Chords were struck, melody accompanying it and Draco nodded encouragingly to Potter. He took a deep breath and sang. Since Draco did not come in until later, he took the opportunity to properly listen to him sing.

The song was slow and cute, not really Potter's thing, but it went well with his voice. Anything would go well with that voice though, Draco thought, it's bloody amazing! Where did he learn to sing? He'd never had a proper opportunity to listen to the other boy, usually teaching him or helping him in a tricky bit, but now he was free to be amazed. His voice filled the room, and filled him; its rich sound relaxing him and stunning him at the same time.

The time came for Draco to come in and together they finished the song. As they did there was a slightly stunned silence. Draco relaxed a little more and smiled at the choir, nodding his thanks. They turned together and took their seats again.

"Very good boys! Excellent! Well done! Twenty points each I think, for-"

"For not killing each other in practice hours," Snape said slyly. Draco chuckled and all the people not in Slytherin looked shocked. They'd never heard even a hint of Snape's less severe side. The rest of rehearsal went smoothly, with Draco and Potter once again going to the front to work on the quintet. Draco seemed to be the only one who had looked over this, and decided he would contact each of the five and work on it.

When they left for lunch, Draco caught Potter's arm before he got through the door.

"Hey, Potter," he turned around and smiled.

"Hey," he said.

"You free tonight?" Draco asked, glancing over the other's shoulder to see a mystified looking Granger and Weasley, who had appeared in the doorway. He smiled and looked back at the bright green almond shaped eyes.

"Err, I think so. But can we do it after dinner so I can get some work done? I mean did Snape really have to set three rolls of parchment?" He heard a snicker behind him and Severus brushed past.

"Just a special treat Potter, it's my birthday soon,"

"So you want to make us all suffer for it-" Draco clamped a hand over Potter's mouth before he could finish.

"He'll give you more if you complain." He grinned over at his god-father who sneered at Potter and walked out. Potter scowled and Draco removed his hand. Weasley looked about to faint. "So, tonight. Eight in the Room? I can help with that homework too if you want." Potter nodded and pulled his bag higher up his shoulder.

"I'll see you then," he said, departing with a slight wave. Draco watched him go and joined Theodore Nott on the way back down to the common room.

The day went slowly, but eventually half seven came around. Draco wanted to get warmed up, so left his friends early, shooting a teasing jibe at Pansy over his shoulder. He sucked a hex and ran out the door laughing.

He headed up to the Room and entered, only to stop short in the doorway. It was not empty; Potter was already there, a ghostly figure playing the piano as he sang. He didn't recognise the song, but he summoned a chair and sat in the shadows, unwilling to disturb him. As he watched, Potter finished and moved onto a second song without a pause. He was mesmerising.

_You grew on me like a tumour  
And you spread through me like malignant melanoma  
And now you're in my heart  
I should've cut you out back at the start_

Now I'm afraid there's no cure for me  
No dose of emotional chemotherapy  
Can halt my pathetic decline  
I should've had you removed back when you were benign

I picked you up like a virus  
Like meningococcal meningitis  
Now I can't feel my legs  
When you're around I can't get out of bed

I've left it too late to risk an operation  
I know there's no hope for a clean amputation  
The successful removal of you  
Would probably kill me too

You grew on me like carcinoma  
Crept up on me like untreated glaucoma  
Now I find it hard to see  
This untreated dose of you has blinded me

I should've consulted my local physician  
I'm stuck now forever with this tunnel vision  
My periphery is screwed  
Wherever I look now, all I see is you

When we first met you seemed fickle and shallow  
But my armour was no match for your poison arrow  
You are wedged inside my chest  
If I tried to take you out now I might bleed to death  
I'm feeling short of breath

You grew on me like a tumour  
And you spread through me like malignant melanoma  
I guess I never knew  
How fast a little mole can grow on you

There was a pause as the music faded and Draco sat stock still. Potter's voice was amazing. It evoked feelings Draco didn't even know existed in him, and he felt utterly relaxed. There was a tenderness in his heart he had not felt for anyone before, and the want of friendship streaked through his veins.

"I know you're there Malfoy, you left the door open," he said, not looking up from the piano. Draco could hear the smile in his voice and chuckled.

"You are amazing," he said, trying not to betray all his feelings. Potter looked up, his emerald eyes piercing and smiled tightly.

"Thanks, but I am never going to believe that."

"Sing me another," he asked. Potter looked amused.

"You really think I'm good?" Draco nodded and Potter shrugged, turning away slightly, apparently uncomfortable with attention. How ironic. "Fine, I'll sing you one more, then we work on the quintet? And duet, and Blow Me," he said, lips curling slightly while Draco laughed.

Without warning several instruments started playing and Draco sat back in his seat. Harry sang another muggle song, slow and sweet –'The Only Exception' by Paramore- and Draco sat there smiling. As he sang, he seemed to forget about having the weight of his tasks ahead and he was free and Draco's perception of him began to morph into something more realistic. As the music went on he saw Harry less as the Chosen One from all his bedtime stories and he became just Harry; the teenager with too much responsibility dropped on him and a stressful school life. He became just like any other guy in their year; overworked, overtired and looking for a release. Unlike the rest though, he'd found it in singing.

He became less of the Golden Boy as it drew to a close, just a specky, scrawny git with unfathomably untidy hair and glasses. He also edged towards becoming 'Harry' rather than 'Potter'.

_And I'm on my way to believing  
Oh, and I'm on my way to believing_

He finished and Draco blinked, unable to wipe the smile from his face. Harry stood awkwardly as the ghostly figures faded away and he moved to the piano for something to do.

"You joining me? We haven't even looked at the five piece one yet. We should have asked the other three to join us here…"

"We'll ask them tomorrow," he said distractedly, joining Harry at the piano. He took out the music and scanned it. "For now, let's get our parts done." He muttered, slowly moving through the chords. Neither of them knew the song so they winged it, Potter stopping every few bars when he forgot what a note was. They worked for two hours on it and by the time they were done they knew it well.

They left each other tired but happy with everything they'd gotten done. They'd been over everything they'd ever worked on and had managed to have a laugh without murdering each other. On the way back down to the dungeons Draco thought about his new revelations about Harry. Wait no, Potter. He wondered how it had come to happen and he clambered into bed, still not sure but not really miniding. He was starting to like him, and really, was that such a bad thing?

Was it?

_**Second A/N: **_**My apologies for the delay! I planned to have this done by end of last week, but I've been busy revising for exams D:**


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: **_**I'll be honest here, I'm basically ignoring the plotlines in all books past 4…don't kill me?! D: Love you all for leaving such lovely reviews 3 you make my days brighter**

The last two weeks were full of work for Harry's year. The teachers insisted that the holidays were not for relaxing, rather for "catching up on work you've missed Mr Potter." Harry could be found in the library or a secluded corner of the common room with Ron every evening, surrounded by books.

Hermione generally left them to their own devices. Although she too was working, she tended to distance herself from them as she often served as a distraction and tried to copy her answers. They had half an evening a week off and Harry went to bed later than anyone.

He had Quidditch practice several times a week and then choir on top of that. Every other night he either met Draco or the other four working on the quintet for practice in the Room of Requirement. They were doing well, and Flitwick hinted that they were to perform to the school after Christmas.

His practices with Draco and Quidditch were the only thing keeping him sane. He grew closer to the Slytherin than he would have ever thought possible. Admittedly that could well have been just sitting in the same room and not trying to kill each other, but still. Out of the Room of Requirement they did not hold conversations, but their insults had much less venom to them than before and they weren't so reluctant to talk if put together in class.

The few exams they were to have that year may not have been until the end of the year but the teachers seemed convinced they would forget everything they'd learnt if they didn't relearn it from the start –twice in one term. And so, the night before the holidays began, Harry finally threw down his quill with a sigh of relief.

"Done!" He exclaimed, stretching up behind his head and yawning massively. Ron followed suit ten minutes later and Hermione beamed at them from across the table.

"Well done! Now we can have a work free Christmas!" She said happily. The common room was almost empty; a few people were finishing of games or gob-stones but most had gone up to bed. The trio decided to follow the example, Hermione bidding them goodnight and heading up to the girls' dorms. Harry and Ron stumbled upstairs with their books and tipped them into their trunks.

Hermione had insisted that they didn't leave packing until the last minute so they had outfits ready and waiting for the morning and nothing left around the room. They weren't dragging their trunks back to the Burrow, preferring instead to take smaller bags Hermione had found and bought in Hogsmeade for them.

The morning dawned cloudy and freezing with the promise of snow in the foreseeable future. The tower came to life in two lots; first the early risers who had to get the train home and the ones who had family taking them home from Hogsmeade station, then a lot later when those staying at school got up. Friends said goodbye all over the place and hurried out to get in time. Everyone else wandered down to breakfast at a more leisurely pace.

Harry and Ron met Hermione and Ginny in the common room and spend the time they had eating and throwing the last few bits and bobs into their bags before heading down to the carriages then onto the train once more. They met Dean and Neville and spent the journey excitedly discussing Christmas plans. Harry would have sworn that the train was enchanted to go faster on the way for Christmas.

They eventually arrived and met Mr and Mrs Weasley on the platform. After hugs and hellos (and good-bye to Hermione) Harry, Ron and Ginny clambered into a magically expanded car and drove home. The house was full of cheer and food and boxes; Percy had recently moved into a flat to be closer to work and was still in the process of clearing out.

"Will Perc be home for Christmas mum?" Ron asked as they went in.

"Oh yes; he said he's happy not to clutter the house up more by sleeping here, but he'll be round for dinner and presents," she said fondly, heading to the stove and putting on a pan of water. "Now, who's hungry?"

Everyone claimed that they were and she made dinner. Harry felt as relaxed as he could be; he was finally home.

It didn't last. He was happy as could be for a week, but the night of the 23rd, the house was fully decorated and presents were all wrapped and under the tree, it's inhabitants all sleeping soundly. Except for Harry.

He tossed and turned, moaning and a fine sheen of sweat covering his body. His scar was burning and he saw a flash of green light and heard an inhuman scream. He woke with a start and sat up in his camp bed on Ron's floor. He was breathing heavily and his hands shook.

He looked across and saw the glint of Ron's eyes in the dark.

"You ok mate? You were shouting. You said…" He seemed to pale and Harry closed his eyes, only to see another flash of green light-an afterimage. He forced them open though they protested from tiredness.

"Nightmare, sorry. Go back to sleep." He murmured. Ron hesitated but Harry flashed him a tired smile and he conceded; his snoring filling the room within minutes. Harry lay back down and stared at the ceiling. He had seen Malfoy.

_He was in a huge mansion; assumedly the Malfoy manor; Harry had heard rumours of its size. There was a gathering; the people all dressed in black with masks in their hands. Harry spoke to them, but his voice was high and cold. He was both part of the being and yet not at the same time. There was fear in the room, he could feel it; but also the tinge of loyalty. He knew they would do whatever he asked of them, whether of fear or loyalty he did not care so long as they did not mess it up._

_Harry told them of his plan for a new order. They were surprised at being called there but most of his followers were there, and more importantly the ones he knew not to be traitors._

"_Severus, Albus evidently knows of my return," Harry said in that same cold voice. A flicker of alarm went through him, but it felt more real than the rest and he knew it was his emotion, not Voldemort's._

"_Yes my lord. Potter told him as soon as he got back two years ago." The figure said in a calm, level voice, betraying no emotion and Harry saw Snape. Had he been in control of his mouth, it would have dropped open. A deep loathing for the man filled him and distracted him enough so he missed what was said next. He scanned the room for more familiar faces and with a start he spotted a pale, blonde haired, smaller boy, staring at the ground. His heart fell out of him and he began shaking. Draco was paler than ever and looked ill._

_Harry's attention snapped back to the robed figures as one interrupted with a stupid idea, almost seeming to contradict and defy his intentions. Harry screamed his frustration and a flash of green light later the figure crumpled onto the ground._

_Harry heard his actual self mentally screaming in the dream and looked across as Draco before waking up._

The real Harry had there awoken, the last image he'd seen was Draco's petrified face; his eyes bright and shining with tears he could not shed for fear of the same thing happening to him. He'd woken with a deep sense of dread and worry.

Harry was wary of going back to sleep, unwilling to revisit that scene. For the rest of the night he lay awake, unable to wipe his mind of Draco's terrified face.

He suspected he'd drifted off more than once in the four hours before the sun rose but luckily he was vision-free. He kept it to himself the next day, not wanting to worry anyone and he tried to forget about it. Didn't work, but let's be honest, not going to be easy to forget, is it?

They had an excellent Christmas two days later –full of food and presents and wine (for those of-age). Harry was sat in the living room wearing his new Weasley jumper and laughing with the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione (who had joined them for a couple of hours, her parents too), when the fireplace roared with green flames, spitting out onto the carpet the last person Harry had expected to see. He also severely doubted he'd be welcomed into the Burrow. Hermione's parents stared at the fireplace in shock, but said nothing about it.

"Malfoy?!" several voices chorused in disbelief.

"Draco?" Harry said in similar tones but with less hostility, rushing forwards and helping him up by the arm. He looked worse than he had in the vision-dream-thing. His eyes were red and wild from what looked like both crying and lack of sleep, his hair stuck up almost as bad as Harry's and was full of soot. He gripped Harry's arm and looked beseechingly at him as the Weasley's all gathered around; some shocked, some amazed, the rest confused and Mr Weasley looking openly hostile. The grime covered boy's eyes filled with tears but they refused to fall.

"What's going on? How did you get here? There are wards covering this place from top to bottom, inside out, back to front." Harry asked. He did not think Draco could handle anything more than quiet voices so he kept his voice down but still forceful.

"I know." He sounded exhausted. "I told the house elf to get me through," everyone looked alarmed, "but it couldn't," Harry almost felt Hermione bristle at the use of 'it', but she kept quiet, for which he was grateful. There was also a feeling of relief from the two elder Weasleys. "So I contacted Dumbledore, and he let me through."

"Draco, what's going on? Is it Voldemort? Is it…what happened the other night?" He said carefully.

Draco looked willing to either slap him or flinch at the sound of the name. He did neither, but swallowed as if he had a great lump lodged in his throat and nodded.

"He…he…" Draco took a shaky breath and Ron tapped Harry on the shoulder, indicating a chair with his head nearby. Harry steered Draco into in, and he fell heavily into the cushions. "Thank you," he mumbled, not looking at anyone. Harry almost felt the Weasleys' surprise at the thanks.

"He came to the manor…he said…" here he faltered.

"I know. I saw it." Harry said tightly. Draco looked up, a mix of astonishment and hope in his features.

"How?"

"It's a long story," He said truthfully. The blonde just shrugged and rubbed his eyes.

"I can't go back, not right now. And Hogwarts isn't an option; there are the kids of dad's 'business partners' there and if they've heard I ran away…" he shuddered lightly. "They'd kill me." He whispered, and Harry wasn't sure if he was being literal or not. Harry was shocked to the core at this new side of Draco and how different it was to the usual snobbish, drawling one who held himself above everyone else. Even the Draco that came out in practice was outgoing, arrogant and proud whilst having a sense of humour and a nice streak in there too. He heard mutters from around the room and knew the others must be thinking something along the same lines as him.

He looked over at Mrs Weasley imploringly, silently begging her to help the broken boy. She widened her eyes in an immediate 'no' but glanced down at Draco who now sat with his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking with silent sobs and her face fell to one of utter sympathy and motherly care.

"You stay here dear, with us for the time be-" she was interrupted by almost all her children shouting their objections, but she glowered at them and they shut up immediately. Harry thought he saw a flicker of amusement in Draco's eyes, having brought his head up when Mrs Weasley addressed him. She weaved between the sofas to get to them. "It's Christmas, I cannot possibly just leave you out at this time! You poor dear.

"Come on love, you can sleep in Percy's old room. I'll show you to the bathroom and you can freshen up. I'm sure Harry has some clothes that'll fit you, you're about the same size," she nattered. Draco looked terrified at the idea of being led away by someone of a family who hated him and looked desperately to Harry.

"Er, maybe I should show him Mrs Weasley. He's not great with strangers," he covered quickly. Mrs Weasley considered this and nodded.

"That's a good idea Harry dear, you know where to go." Harry shot her a grateful smile and offered Draco a hand up.

They headed through the crowd of redheads and the Burrow. They all moved aside as he passed, almost as if being a dick was contagious, and Harry suddenly remembered the rumours Draco had spread over the summer. Well he was going to be proved very wrong about some of those. They wound through the cluttered house.

"How did you find me?" Harry asked curiously, unable to keep it in.

"I told you, Dumbledore."

"When did you contact him?"

"Yesterday evening, after…He…left. I was going mad there…" Harry could believe it; his eyes were distant and he was still too pale. There were now tear tracks down his mucky face. They reached the bathroom and he pushed the door open.

"Wait here; you can borrow some of my clothes." He said, dashing upstairs to grab something that might fit the smaller boy. Hermione had taken him shopping over the previous summer and so was no longer restricted to Dudley's old, baggy grey clothes. He pulled out a black shirt, dark green jumper and a pair of jeans. They would have to do, he thought as he went back to where he'd left the Slytherin.

Harry found Draco topless and cleaning his face when he went back to the bathroom. He paused for a moment, in the shadow of the door. He was bloody gorgeous. His muscles were lean and hard, his skin flawless –if pale- and his body was altogether perfect. He looked around at Harry, apparently sensing the stare and raised an eyebrow, seemingly much more at peace now.

"Er, here," he said as his cheeks went a light pink and holding out the clothes. Draco took them with a nod of thanks and a smirk. His eyes were still red and slightly vacant and Harry realised it was all just a mask. "Hey, you can always talk to me. Anytime, I'm here." He offered quietly with half a smile.

"Thanks, but I can't talk about it now. Not yet." He said quietly, avoiding the green eyes.

Harry gave a nod of understanding and reached up to tug the blonde hair falling into his grey ones. "You need to wash this," he said, pulling out a spider. Draco made a face at the creature.

"Ew. And how am I meant to wash it?" He looked around the small bathroom, apparently not noticing the shower.

"There's the shower over there." Harry pointed out. Draco just gave him a look of disbelief.

"You can't expect me to shower? I need a bath!" He muttered something about 'never had a shower in my life, won't stoop so low', and Harry poked him, hard.

"Watch it ferret," he warned. "And the only other option is washing it in the sink."

"Well it seems about as big as the shower…" he began before stopping himself at Harry's look of warning. "But it'll do." He said quickly. He dropped the clothes in a pile and turned on the tap, trying to figure out how to get his head under it. Harry stood and watched in amusement for a few minutes before taking pity on him.

He went in and shut the door. "Move over to the shower, you oblivious prat." He said. Draco made a face but did as he was told. "Bend over," Harry ordered and Draco blushed a furious red. Harry belatedly realised that that could sound rather rude. "Something the matter Malfoy?" Harry asked innocently. "Not used to being told to bend over?"

"No." He said a little too quickly and Harry's curiosity was aroused, but he left it, storing it away for later questioning. Draco obediently put his head into the shower as Harry pulled the cord off the wall and turned on the water. He proceeded to wash the Slytherin's hair, feeling more awkward with every move.

Eventually the last of the conditioner was rinsed out and Harry stood up, handing Draco a towel for his hair. He accepted it in silence and wrapped it turban-style around his head. Harry smiled and vacated the bathroom without a word, allowing the other boy to get dressed in peace.

Once outside he leant against the wall and sighed. His thoughts drifted back to the vision of a few nights ago, and he screwed his eyes up, as if that could block it out. He heard the door open and his eyes snapped open with it. They widened almost imperceptibly as he turned and saw the figure in the doorway.

He was downright gorgeous. The clothes fit him well and made him look rather athletic. Although Harry was taller, Draco wasn't as skinny, and the clothes hugged his arms nicely. His hair was still messy from the towel drying, but it was clean and soft looking.

"Are you going to gawk all day long Potty, or are we going to do something?" Draco asked. Harry smiled and pointed down the corridor. Draco's clothes were still on the bathroom floor and Harry flicked his wand at them, sending them into a neat pile by the laundry basket. Mrs Weasley would realise they were Malfoy's.

"Ready to join the Weasleys?"

"I will never be ready to join the Weasleys…" he muttered as he followed Harry down the corridor.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: **__Over a month without updating…how much you all must love me xD My apologies! I have had exams and a skiing holiday and a lot of work to get done D: As always, I claim nothing! The song is based on the original poem by J.R.R. Tolkein and used in The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, the characters etc etc are all Rowlings' blah blah blah ya-da-ya-da-ya. Enjoy _

The first ten minutes were spent in a tense, awkward silence. Half the Weasleys glared at him, whilst the other half either avoided his gaze or ignored him completely, holding a conversation with the Grangers. Draco half listened in but couldn't follow –what the hell was a rubber duck? Harry sat on the same two-seater with him, their arms touching, and Draco was glad for the support.

"Shall I make some tea Mrs Weasley?" Harry offered when it became unbearable.

"That would be lovely dear, thank you." She said.

"I'll help, shall I?" Draco said, leaping up off the sofa and following the only friendly one there through to the tiny kitchen. When he was sure they were out of earshot he let out a huge sigh and rubbed his eyes, leaning against a counter. "Merlin's beard Potter I didn't think it would be this awful."

Harry didn't reply and Draco opened his eyes to see him with his back to him, jaw set.

"What have I done?" He asked, genuinely unsure. Harry slammed the pot of tea down onto a tray and turned around. His emerald eyes were blazing and Draco felt a flicker of something similar to fear.

"What have you done?" Potter repeated his words in a dangerous tone. "Do you not recall last summer? Do you not remember the rumours you spread about a perfectly decent family?" Draco paled and his insides began to freeze, one by one. Potter took a menacing step closer. "Do you not remember what you said? Those vile, vicious and hateful words you sold to the press? Of course the wizarding world trusts poor little Draco Malfoy, victim of the Weasleys, so no one questions it. But we do Malfoy. We fucking do because we know the fucking truth and you; you have no idea do you?"

The other room had gone silent but neither boy noticed. Draco began to shake very slightly, and clenched his hands on the side behind him until his knuckles went white. He remembered, of course he did. He just didn't want to. He'd contradicted his own tales by falling onto their floor covered in soot and he'd proven himself and his family wrong by seeing the shabby, tumbling down house for himself.

"Well Malfoy?" Harry said, now only inches away from him. Draco could feel the black hair tickling his forehead and the green eyes bore into his own grey ones. The face in front of him held an expression of such distaste he wondered how he hadn't yet been thrown out of the house. He took a shaky breath.

"Of course I remember." His voice was small and pitiful, betraying just how he felt. "I remember every word of it and if you think I don't regret each letter of it then you don't deserve to have a brain." He said, voice trembling with supressed emotion.

Potter looked taken aback and Draco pressed his advantage, leaning even closer.

"I cannot explain my actions nor can I justify them, but I can apologise, and I can make amends. The entire Weasley clan seem to hate me. Even Weasley –the one in our year- seemed to be getting used to me at school, but here in front of family he cowers behind his rage."

"And that's not at all what you did is it?" Potter said sarcastically. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Of course that's what I did. You have no idea what it's like-" he broke off as his voice cracked. He took a moment then began again. "You have no idea how hard it is living in my house,"

Potter gave a harsh laugh. "I could say the same to you Malfoy." He retorted.

"What? You get whatever you want, muggles to wait on your every command and all the space you want."

Potter looked like he was about to burst out laughing as he took a couple of steps back. "You know nothing Draco Malfoy. I live with my abusive Uncle, Aunt and cousin. I slept in a cupboard under some stairs for eleven years; I was made to do the cooking, cleaning, gardening and every little chore around the house. I was given my cousin's old clothes to wear –before my Hogwarts uniform I'd never had an item of clothing I could truly claim as my own.

"I was kept out of sight of guests and my birthday was forgotten every year. Before Hagrid I'd never had a friend or a father figure. I'd never had money or even hope before he came to collect me from that god-forsaken rock. I had a dark lord kill my parents when I was a baby and I've never even heard their voices. The only memory I have of my parents is them dying, which I relive every time a dementor comes near me, and yet you had the nerve to dress up as one in our third year." He paused and took a shaky breath.

"I never had a mother! Or a father or siblings or even decent family. I was locked in my room when the Dursleys thought I'd done something wrong and when I was twelve they fitted bars to my bedroom window to stop me going back to Hogwarts. I've watched Voldemort's return and fought him more times than I care to think about. I saw Pettigrew kill Cedric and I watched him kill a Death Eater at the same time that you did two days ago. I watched my god-father die –my dad's best friend and one of mine.

"So don't you dare say I've had it easy."

Draco stood staring in open-mouthed shock. He felt a deep sense of pity for the scrawny, underfed boy in front of him. He now realised Potter wasn't just naturally lean as he was, he was genuinely skinny –he'd never really had enough. He compared what he'd just learnt to his own childhood.

Thanks to Potter he'd had a relatively free one. Free from the Dark Lord and free from the threats he brought with him. Free from hard work and full of games with his parents. He'd had everything he'd needed and more on top of that. He'd had plenty of food, toys, time, and friends. He'd been a leader from the moment he'd met the children in the area. He'd had house-elves wait upon him whenever he wanted and he'd been spoilt.

It was only the most recent years that his life had been ripped away from him. His house was now dark and dingy, cold and unwelcoming. It had empty spaces and spaces he was no longer allowed to go in. It creaked at night and it was never warm. The fires held none of the comfort they had when he was little –now they seemed to burn with a life of their own, cruel and unforgiving.

And when the Dark Lord himself came to visit it was worse than ever. Fear followed him like a shadow, and death crept both ahead and behind him. His mere presence was enough to make your skin crawl and your stomach turn. More than once Draco had been sick when He had passed by his room. There was an air of dread and cold cruelty surrounding him.

But worst of all had to be the cold, high voice and the snake-like features that were his face, the features twisted into a cruel smile more often than not. So pale he seemed to glow, a mere memory of him made Draco shiver.

He came out of his reverie to see Potter staring at him frowning slightly, almost appearing worried.

"I don't think I'll ever understand your mood-swings Potty." He muttered. Harry rolled his eyes.

"This is not over. But I have an idea I'd like to try, so come on." He thrust a tray of cups, biscuits and sugar into Draco's hands and they went back through to the living room, where a lively conversation about Charlie's work in Romania was taking place. The laughter at one of Charlie's impressions of his co-workers died down as Draco was spotted.

They carefully set down the tea on a cluttered table and Harry made his way over to Granger. He murmured something to her and she grinned. She nodded and pulled her wand out of her pocket. Draco frowned in confusion as she pointed it at a lamp. With a muttered incantation a simple piano stood in its place and Draco's fingers twitched.

It was plain and wooden, as appose to his huge grand back home, but it was music, and it would calm him down. He felt someone push him lightly towards it and smiled gratefully back at Harry, who was smiling gently. He sat down without embellishment and ran through a couple of scales to get used to the keys.

He grinned and struck the chords to the duet he and Potter were working on. He glanced up at the raven-haired boy and winked. He got an unamused look back, but the boy seemed unable to stop himself from singing. He came in on time and together they finished it without a note out of place.

The Weasleys were looking between the two in some confusion, but Granger was smiling. Draco moved on without a beat's rest to a solo piano piece and ended five minutes later with most of the Weasleys smiling, lost in their own thoughts. He let the last notes fade and smiled.

He felt infinitely more relaxed than he had done for days, despite present company, and the atmosphere in the room was no longer overly hostile. As the chord faded to oblivion Mrs Weasley started clapping. She stopped quite quickly when she realised she was the only one doing so but at least no one was glaring daggers at the Slytherin anymore. He cleared his throat and stood up.

He'd been thinking as he played; trying to compose a speech to formally apologise and ask for their help. He knew it was a tall order and he doubted he'd ever have their full trust, and the idea of friendship was ludicrous. But he could ask for a truce. Mrs Weasley had already said he could stay for Christmas, but he had to be sure, and try and remove some of the tension between them all and him.

"I know I have done this family great wrongs. I've never made it easy for you and I've used by high standing in society to make your life difficult. Not always intentionally, but that's the thing; sometimes it was. I know I've baited and taunted you all and last summer I did the worst I've ever done.

"All I can say is you have my deepest apologies. I saw as soon as I stepped out of your bathroom –calmer and more aware than when I arrived – that I was completely wrong. Not a single word of what I said last summer was true and I cannot tell you how much I regret it. If I could go back and change it all I swear to you I would."

Mr Weasley stood up, and Draco tensed. "I cannot speak for my whole family, but I can say I know what it's like to be under pressure. I do not think those rumours you spread were made by you; rather you were the poster boy. I don't however, forgive you." Draco's shoulders slumped and he looked at the Weasleys with miserable acceptance.

"Although," Mrs Weasley said, joining her husband. "We are not ones to turn out a boy in need of help." The older Weasley children all began to protest but once again she silenced them. "I can see that Harry at least has partly forgiven you, and I am willing to give you a chance. But you will have to change. No more of this laying about waiting for someone to bring you things; you stay here, you help out." She said sternly.

Draco couldn't stop himself smiling. "Thank you." He said simply, and she nodded.

"Now come sit down as we wait for the pudding to cool enough to eat," she said, ushering him back over to the sofa where Harry was sat.

There was still a layer of unease slotted beneath the atmosphere, but it was ignored and it gradually faded into the background. Over the rest of the evening they talked and laughed, and whilst Draco was not a huge part, he still joined in every now and again. For the most part he let them have a family time, sitting quietly next to Harry, legs curled up beneath him.

It was an entirely new experience for Draco. His Christmases were usually small affairs with just his parents; their family were not the cheeriest lot out there. Whenever Aunt Bella came round they spent the time discussing dark arts and powerful magic, not laughing and telling jokes and stories.

He felt his prejudice against the red-headed family dwindle throughout the day as he got to know them. He was properly warm for the first time in days, and he had such a sense of home that he almost forgot that he didn't belong there.

The Grangers left late in the evening, sporting hats from crackers and Hermione even had a small bird from hers. They were waved out with cheery calls and tipsy goodbyes. Draco was grinning ear to ear as everyone sat back down together. It was a little more relaxed now; not as lively as the evening wound down.

Harry and Draco helped clear away, and Harry volunteered their services as dish-washers. He felt a spike of alarm; he'd never even considered that _people_ had to wash the dishes. Potter snickered at his expression and he scowled at him.

"Come on ferret, I'll show you how to do it." He teased, grinning and leading him through to the kitchen with an armful of plates. He filled the sink with bubbles and water and dumped the plates, glasses and cutlery in it. He went through stage by stage of how to wash and fry dishes, as if talking to a child while Draco fought the urge to slap him, half in jest...He eventually just snatched a tea towel off the side.

"I'm not that stupid Potter. I'll dry if you wash." He said grumpily. Harry laughed but agreed. Draco was reminded of a song he'd overheard a muggle playing in Diagon Alley.

_Blunt the knives, bend the forks,  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks,  
Chip the glasses and crack the plates,  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

"How the hell do you know that Malfoy?" Harry asked, pausing in the repetitive action of washing plates.

"Overheard it in Diagon Alley," he said simply with a shrug.

_Cut the cloth and tread the fat!__  
__Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!__  
__Pour the milk on the pantry floor!__  
__Splash the wine on every door!_

Harry continued. They went on together.

_Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl; __  
__Pound them up with a thumping pole; __  
__And when you've finished, if they are whole, __  
__Send them down the hall to roll!___

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

"Don't you dare." Came a mock-stern voice from the doorway and they turned to see Mrs Weasley stood there with hands on hips. They laughed together, and Draco rather thought their laughs worked together in a wonderful harmony. She smiled warmly at the pair of them and a load of glasses floated from beside her into the sink. Harry grinned as Draco scowled, but they set to work merrily enough as Mrs Weasley left.

"You know, I don't think I'll ever understand you Draco." Harry stated as he passed another bowl across to him.

"Hm?" He said, not really paying attention.

"You seem to have so many possible reactions to the slightest things. First there's the person you are in front of the whole school; arrogant, snobbish, proud, dickhead, you know, all that sort of thing." Draco whipped the back of his head with a tea towel.

"I am no such thing, never say that again," he drawled and Harry laughed.

"Yes you are, and you know it. Then there's the Malfoy I met on the carriage back up to school the first night; the one I'd never met before.

"Then there's the Malfoy in practice, who is similar to carriage-Malfoy, but more open yet more haughty at the same time.

"Then there's the one who fell through the fireplace earlier." He stopped washing and looked straight at him. Draco felt his eyes pierce him, and it almost seemed as if Potter could see right inside him. It made him feel small and slightly uncomfortable.

"The one who's scared and alone; and those two are amongst the worst to go together. I think you're lonely and broken, but you refuse to admit this to anyone so you stay hidden and only show your true self when there's no one else around. You put on a mask for the public and it never really comes away, does it."

Draco couldn't look away; he was captivated by the scruffy boy in front of him. He couldn't speak. It was as if something was lodged in his throat and refused to move. He stood there silently for a minute, gazing into the green eyes. He looked away when he could no longer bear it.

"So which is the real you?" Harry asked.

"I don't know if there is a real me," he said quietly. "Or if there is he's too scared to come out in public."

Harry gave a small smile and turned back to washing up. His insides twisted as the lips twitched upwards and his legs felt a little weak.

"Maybe we can coax him out in the next few days."

"Are you sure the real him isn't the ferret?" Came Weasley's –Ron's – voice from the door. Draco's insides untwisted immediately and cooled down rapidly. He reddened as Harry laughed but he knew better than to retort, however tempting it may have been. Weasley came in and added the last of the bowls to the sunk before strolling out again grinning.

"Why does everyone insist upon bringing that up?" He grumbled.

"Because it was hilarious," Harry stated simply, still smiling. Draco hit him with the towel again, leaving soap suds in his hair. He laughed as the Gryffindor scowled and got rid of them.

They finished up and went back through to the living room, laughing at a joke Harry had just make. Someone threw something at him and he ducked, even as Harry reached out and caught it from the air with ease.

"And _that_ is why I'm the better seeker," he said with a wink as Draco straightened up scowling.

"What even is it?" He looked at the object in the boy's hands.

"A bag of your things," Mr Weasley answered. "It arrived a minute ago without an explanation. Took us quite by surprise."

Draco took the bag from Harry anxiously, but smiled when he recognised the clothes he kept at Severus' house, including school uniform and robes. Dumbledore must have been in touch with him.

"It's from Severus, the clothes I usually keep at him." He explained. He was met by 10 baffled stares and explained he was Draco's god-father.

Draco spent the next week getting to know the Weasleys and trying to show them he wasn't all bad. They left the piano in the living room, taking up the little space that there had been, and every afternoon he took half an hour or so to play it. He worked with Harry a couple of times on the quintet but generally played alone.

At the end of the week Draco asked to go to Diagon Alley. The Weasleys agreed to take him, so long as they could modify his appearance. Grudgingly, he allowed them to morph his features into someone unrecognisable, and he was transformed into a ginger Weasley for the day. Harry laughed so hard he'd had to leave the room.

Needless to say, Draco Malfoy did not suit red hair. His nose was made less pointy and upturned, instead becoming long like Ron's. His chin was modified a little and his eyes were turned brown. He looked every inch like one of them, especially when he was given older robes, rather than his extremely recognisable designer velvet ones.

Once Mr and Mrs Weasley were satisfied he was well enough disguised, he stuffed his want and wallet into his pockets, tucked a strand of long ginger hair behind his ear and they apparated him and Harry to Diagon Alley.

Stepping out a side street the Gryffindor and he arranged a place and a time to re-meet Mr and Mrs Weasley (1:30 outside Ollivander's) and they headed off.

"So why did you actually want to come here?" Harry asked.

"To get the Weasleys a thank-you present." He stated without embellishment, avoiding Harry's amazed gaze.

"Ok…" He said. "What were you thinking?"

"That's why I brought you along, idiot," he said with an eye roll. "I've only really known them for a week; you however have known them for years." He stared at Harry as the latter thought of something they would like.

"You could always buy them an owl…" he suggested thoughtfully, still trying to think of more ideas. "Theirs is pathetic –he's really old and can't fly far. He's always crashing into windows and jugs and plates."

Draco grinned. It was perfect! "Yes! That'll do, come along Potty." He said, heading off towards the magical menagerie. Harry cuffed him on the back of his head but followed with a grin.

They spent close to an hour in the stuffy, smelly shot and Draco was almost dying by the time he finally decided on a suitable one. He got some owl treats too and a magnificent cage for her.

He'd picked a gorgeous tawny owl in the end. It was medium sized with flecks of white amongst the brown and strong wings. She was young and healthy and Draco was very pleased with his purchase.

They wandered through Diagon Alley together, chatting idly about school and homework. Harry had finished all his before the holidays, but Draco still had a pile to get through.

They visited various shops and stocked up on ink, quills, parchment and lunch before heading back to meet the elder Weasleys. They both complimented the owl, Draco not telling them until they returned that it was for them. When they did get back, Draco asked as politely as he could if everyone could gather in the living room –the biggest space in the house.

They did so with some confusion and he fidgeted nervously as they sat down. Harry sat on an arm of a sofa, less than a stride away and gave him an encouraging smile. His insides glowed and he smiled at the gathered people.

He stammered out some speech about how grateful he was for their help, and presented them with the owl. He was met with 8 (Percy having gone back home) open-mouthed looks of shock, and Harry grinning. He bit his lip and wondered if he'd made a mistake, when Ginny stood up. Of all the Weasleys she was the least he'd had to do with in the holidays. He could see her thinking 'why', but she didn't say that.

In fact she said nothing at all, but she walked right up to him and hugged him. Startled, but not displeased he hesitantly hugged her back. She let go with a smile and took the cage off him. She poked a finger through the bars and cooed softly. A smile broke out on every face, and they all gathered around the owl.

All of them thanked him too many times to count and he said "it's the least I could do, really" so many times he never wanted to hear the words again. He watched from the side-lines with Harry as they named her and let her get used to her new home, a smile haunting his lips.

He thought fondly of when he'd been bought his eagle owl; he was one of his best friends, as foolish as that sounds. He was always there for him and didn't judge him. He listened to his rants and left when he got bored. Draco found himself looking across at Harry, the fond smile still on his mouth. Harry looked up as he sensed the gaze and smiled falteringly back, looking rather confused.

Draco's insides twisted for the second time and he felt warm. He blushed very slightly and looked away. He got up and almost subconsciously went to the piano. He played a merry tune and then an old song that everyone in the wizarding world knew. The Weasleys all joined in whilst Harry sat smiling on the arm, drumming lightly on the sofa.

That night was the last he was to spend in the crowded house, and he was surprised to find himself regretful of it. He clambered into Percy's double bed (he assumed it was enlarged by magic, and it barely fit in the room) after brushing his teeth and packing all his things for the return to school. He curled up and fell asleep quickly.

He was having an extremely pleasant dream when he was startled awake by a quiet laugh near his ear.

"Having a good dream Malfoy?" Potter whispered innocently.

Draco went bright red, very glad for the cover of darkness and mentally checked himself over. He found nothing physical to give away his dream and sighed in relief, although too quietly for the other to hear.

"What are you doing in my room?" He hissed back. "And why would you ask?"

"Because you were muttering a name-" At this Draco felt his cheeks burn and hoped Harry was lying. Merlin that would be embarrassing. "And I'm here because I had a nightmare and Ron's probably not as happy to have me disturb him at two in the morning."

"What makes you think I'm happy to be woken at such an un-godly time?!" He whispered grumpilym half wishing he didn't sleep topless.

"Nothing, but it was you or Ginny, and I went for you. She has such a temper sometimes."

Draco thought he might be grinning, but wasn't sure. "Well what do you expect me to do?"

"I don't know…but I didn't want to be…" He seemed to choke on his words and Draco sighed. He shifted over to the wall and pulled up the covers.

"Get in, coward." He murmured. Harry purposefully kicked him as he climbed in. "Ow. And no cuddling – I'm not a Hufflepuff."

"No, you're a ferret," he whispered with glee, receiving a well-deserved poke in the back.

"Shut up. What was your nightmare about?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

Twenty minutes later Draco found himself in the last place he would ever have thought possible. If you had told him a year ago he would be laid in Percy Weasley's bed with his arms wrapped around a silently sobbing Harry Potter he would have laughed and hexed you into tomorrow; however, that was just how he found himself the night before returning to Hogwarts.

He said nothing, but let the boy cry into his shoulder, slowly stroking his hair as his mother did for him when he was upset. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the soft mess of black hair. He smelled deliciously of shampoo and for a while he just breathed in the scent of Harry, not caring how weird it sounded –to be fair it was almost half two in the morning, he was hardly himself.

When the tears at last stopped, they sat in silence for a while, not even feeling that awkward. Harry's arms had wrapped around his waist at some point and his hands were clutching at his bare back. They didn't say anything for a while, both thinking about what Harry had just dreamt. It was worse than any nightmare Draco had ever had, and if he'd felt terror listening to it, it was nothing to how Harry must have felt trapped in it.

"Draco…"

"Hm?"

"Tell me about the Manor last week?"

He stiffened and tried to pull away, but Harry wouldn't let him, clinging tightly to him with his face still buried in his shoulder.

"I thought you said you saw it?"

"I did, but in my experience you have to talk about things before you can really move on. Otherwise it'll haunt you forever."

So Draco haltingly told of what had happened a week ago, and though he didn't cry, his voice caught in his throat more than once and his eyes misted over slightly. His insides filled with cold dread and his heart was heavy as he felt every beat of it against his ribs. This time it felt more like Harry held him as he listened, and they relived it together.

He finished the story and Harry stopped drawing circles on his back. It was surprisingly easy to talk about it; perhaps because they could not see each other so it seemed less personal. Or perhaps they had just reached a stage of trust where they were comfortable enough with each other to do so. Draco doubted he would ever know. It would surely all feel like a dream in the morning anyway.

Their heads were already resting on pillows, and they were both exhausted by this point. He closed his eyes, though in the darkness it made no difference, and slowly he became more and more ready to sleep again –the feelings that had stirred from reliving the horrible night faded and were replaced with warmth and comfort at having another in his arms.

"Harry?"

"Hm?" He sounded as sleepy as Draco felt.

"Thank you."

He felt a nod against his chest and they fell asleep soon after, each wrapped in the other's arms.


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: **__Ok I'll be honest and admit I didn't proof read the end of the last chapter…which was stupid as it was written at about two in the morning. :/ Sorry! I went through it when I began writing this one and found so many mistakes! I'll go back and fix it up at some point. Once again nothing belongs to me but the plot! All goes to respective owners! Enjoy _

Harry woke slowly, and noticed an unusual warmth in his bed. He opened his eyes and blinked blurrily at the figure of a softly snoring Draco Malfoy still wrapped in his arms. He frowned in confusion, but the night's events rushed back to him soon enough and he squeezed his eyes shut. He shifted slightly and Draco snorted lightly.

Harry snickered and re-opened his eyes to look at the blonde. It then hit him that he was topless. Harry blushed bright red and bit his lip, unconsciously comparing their bodies. Draco's eyelids fluttered and Harry hastily removed his arms from around the boy's torso; or he tried to, but Draco was lying on one, making it impossible to move.

"Why are you still in my bed Harry?" He drawled, stifling a yawn. Harry laughed.

"Because I've only just woken up-"

"Oi, ferret!" Came Ron's voice from outside the door. Both boys froze. This would be a very awkward position for Ron to find them in. "Have you seen Harry? And mum says breakfast's on the table when you're up."

Harry grinned at the blonde and extricated himself from Draco, the latter arching his back to free the arm trapped beneath him. He padded across the small space to the door and opened it.

"Morning Ron," he said cheerfully. Ron's eyes widened as he took in Harry's appearance; sleepy, bed-head, glasses askew, late night eyes, rather satisfied, and then Draco behind him on the bed, looking completely at ease without a top on.

"What?" He said weakly. Harry grinned.

"Maybe you should go have breakfast, I'm sure he'll be down soon," he said, suppressing a chuckle. Ron nodded and left quickly. Harry turned in the doorway, a feeling of awkwardness beginning to worm its way into his stomach. "I'll er…see you in a bit. I should um, go get dressed and er, stuff…yeah…" he said, blushing and barely managing not to bolt out the room. He heard Draco's laugh ring out and follow him back up to Ron's attic room.

He got washed and dressed and went back down for breakfast. Draco was already there, laughing with Ginny about teachers. Harry smiled, genuinely pleased that there was in fact a nice Malfoy beneath the surface. He helped himself to toast and eggs, sitting opposite Draco and next to Ron, who was looking between them in some confusion with a cup of tea.

"It was nothing Ron, seriously. I just had a nightmare."

"And ended up in bed with a topless Malfoy?"

Ginny choked on her orange juice and Draco snorted.

"I don't mind if you like blokes mate, but a bit of warning next time, yeah?" Ron said with a grin.

"Really, it was nothing. I didn't expect company and I usually sleep topless." Draco butted in. He sounded slightly flustered and Harry gave him a curious glance. He would have to interrogate him at some point as to why he got uncomfortable talking about homosexuality, even just innuendos.

Harry nodded along with a reassuring smile, unsure why his insides felt warm and the monster in his chest was purring softly in the background. Ron just winked at him and got up.

"I've still got some packing to do, see you in a bit, right?"

"'course, you can hardly leave without me," Harry said with a grin. Ginny was still looking rather confused, but followed her brother out without an explanation, a calculating expression on her face. She was very like Hermione was Ginny sometimes…

"Well, that could have gone worse." Draco said across the table, almost to himself. Harry chuckled around a mouthful of scrambled egg but didn't reply further.

They all set off for the station an hour later, once everything was packed.

"We'll send on anything you've forgotten. It'll be easy now thanks to Draco," Mrs Weasley said fondly once they'd arrived. She'd rather come to care for Draco in the past week, and he smiled embarrassedly.

"See you soon Mrs Weasley," Harry said as she hugged him good bye.

"Now you be careful, and look after him." She said in a mock-stern voice. He laughed and gave his word he would, as he, Ginny, Ron and Draco clambered onto the train. Draco attempted to hide behind Harry all the way to an empty compartment in case they saw anyone they knew, but they didn't.

The train was relatively empty, not everyone having gone home for Christmas, and they found Hermione waiting for them. Ginny left them earlier as they passed her friends in her year. They joined Hermione with hearty greetings and Ron lost no time in telling her that Harry was gay for Malfoy. She spluttered and coughed and Harry and Draco gave Ron identical deadpan stares. This made him laugh harder and even Hermione grinned.

Harry explained what he was talking about and Hermione gave him a look as if she was checking an internal gay-dar or something. Draco snickered.

"Well one of them's gay, at least." She stated firmly as she sat back. "Possibly both. We'll have to wait and see." Ron laughed, Harry looked confused and Draco tried to give a natural looking smile, which failed miserably. Well that stopped Harry having to interrogate him at a later point at least.

They spent the journey happily reliving tales of second year, and Harry was smug to see Draco's look of incredulity as he and Ron described the Slytherin common room to him in perfect detail. He laughed at Draco's disbelief of their adventures, and they all laughed at his mini-tantrum when he found out they had freed Buckbeak (though they didn't tell him how).

The train pulled into the station late and they headed up to the carriages together. They made it up to the castle without any important Slytherins noticing Draco. They said goodbye in the entrance hall and went up to the tower to drop off bags. Ron's stomach was complaining loudly and they once re-united with Ginny, Dean, Seamus and Neville they all headed down to dinner.

It was a merry affair to begin with, though Harry noticed Draco sat alone at the end of his house table amidst first and second years. His cold, unaffected mask was back but Harry had learnt enough about him last term to see through it. He could see the pain in his grey eyes, and the tension indicated by the pursed lips.

A crazy idea entered his head, and without pausing to think about it he got up. Those around him fell silent, and Ron looked wary as he followed Harry's gaze.

"Watch it, you might make it worse for him," Ron warned.

"Nothing can be worse for him right now Ron, he told me what goes on at the Manor and trust me, it can't be worse." he said, not looking down. He stepped over the bench and strode confidently over to the Slytherin table. The majority of the hall had shut up by this point.

"What do you think you are doing Potter?" He drawled as Harry approached.

"Stealing you. Come on." He held out a hand and Draco frowned at it. 30 seconds of tense silence passed as Draco looked up at his 'friends' and across the Hall. He turned back to Harry and let a smile slide onto his face. He grasped the hand and Harry pulled him to his feet, letting go once he was up. Together they walked right down the middle of the Great Hall, side by side and their steps in sync. As they walked out, the Hall erupted into uproar. People were shouting across tables to friends and the Slytherins were all either glaring at them or staring in open-mouthed shock. Harry smirked smugly.

"Where are we going?" Draco hissed.

"Room of Requirement. I hope you've had enough to eat, there won't be more 'til morning," Harry muttered as they hastened through the halls. He saw Draco smiling out the corner of his eye.

"Hey Potty," he said softly.

"Hm?"

"Thanks…"

Harry turned his head to smile at him and walked into a suit of armour. Draco immediately doubled over in laughter and held onto the wall for support as Harry struggled to right himself and the armour. He glared at Draco as he straightened up and he just laughed harder.

"Shut up," he sulked. Draco stifled his laughter, occasional chuckles bursting out as they headed off. By the time they reached the portrait of the trolls even Harry was grinning reluctantly. He conjured the room and in they were back in the copy Draco's bedroom in no time.

"Why's there a bed in the corner?" Harry asked, noticing it properly for the first time. "I just asked for the same room as when you taught me that muggle song."

To his surprise Draco smiled fondly around the room, taking in the familiar score books and instruments.

"It's my bedroom." He said simply, a light blush tinging his cheeks, though Harry didn't think he realised. He went to stand by the piano.

"I'm in your bedroom?" He asked, fighting to keep the laughter out his voice. He wasn't even sure why he wanted to laugh, but he did.

Draco nodded and ran a hand lovingly over the top of the grand and his lips broke into a proper smile. He sat on the stool and began to play one of his own compositions (though Harry didn't know this, to him it was just an extraordinarily sweet song, slow and sad with powerful words). Harry joined him on the stool. The words were simple, and he joined in on the last chorus, harmonising beautifully. He'd learnt a lot from Draco's teaching, and with his natural ear for music on top of that he was pretty damn perfect.

The Slytherin looked up and smiled, his fingers still moving effortlessly across the keys. Harry looked into the almost silver eyes and trailed off. Draco followed suit apparently by accident, the notes fading into oblivion though still ringing through the room. The grey eyes seemed unfathomable, yet Harry felt as if he could see inside the boy in front of him.

He was scared, he was angry and he was so confused. They mimicked how he was feeling himself and felt a spark in his stomach. There was another and this time it lit, sending a surging warmth through his body. He felt something new, something exciting. He blinked and let out a shaky but silent breath. As one they leaned in slowly and hesitantly, so hesitantly their lips brushed.

Draco leaned in and Harry responded in kind. It was fleeting and they broke apart quickly. Harry felt ridiculously confused. He didn't like guys, did he? Maybe it was just this one guy…would that really be so bad? A million scenarios flashed through his head in less than a second; days that could be spent in a relationship with the blonde boy and memories they'd shared over the last term. Looking back he saw them as the rest of the school might well, already a couple without really realising. His insides felt unlike they ever had before, his breathing was shallow and his chest felt tight but in a spectacular way. He was filled with want and excitement.

He opened his eyes to find the silver ones staring right back into his, again a mix of emotions but this time he couldn't read them.

"I…" He started, but Draco put a finger to his lips and shushed him gently.

"Don't speak." He said, and kissed him again.

Harry spent a whole five minutes staring at the boy in front of him, wheels in his mind working overtime. What the hell was going on? Draco began to shift uncomfortably, his fingers twitching towards the keys. Harry struck the last note that had been played, not even consciously choosing to.

Draco picked a note that harmonised and Harry's lips twitched into a smile. He picked the fifth of that one and Draco chose the minor third of the next. They continued picking out harmonising notes until both were grinning at the stupidity yet addictive fun of it.

"What in Merlin's name are we doing?" Draco asked eventually.

"I have no idea." Harry replied with a laugh. "So…this is your bedroom?"

Draco's expression went from confused but happy to wary in a second. "Yes…" he said slowly.

Harry snickered as he guessed what had probably just gone through his mind. "Are these all your own work?" He asked, gesturing to the knee-high piles of composition paper.

"Well…" Draco stood up and went over to a pile. "A lot of this stuff is blank script that's there for when I need it. Most of the books on the shelves are other composer's work, but there's a few that are mine."

"Play me a song?"

"I already have, right before we kissed."

"Play me another."

"What do I get in return?"

"What do you want in return?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes." There was a long pause.

"I want you." It was said with such quiet sincerity it surprised the Gryffindor. He hadn't expected it, but to be fair he hadn't expected much that had happened that evening, no, that year, and it had all happened anyway.

He didn't know what to think at that. He looked up at the blonde boy, who stood there without his usual confidence and arrogance, just a shadow of his normal self. Harry got up and crossed over to him.

"You can have me for nothing," he said, leaning in and kissing him. He felt Draco smile against his lips and he wrapped the smaller boy in his arms.


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N:**_I'm so sorry…I did not mean to leave this so late :/ And I'll be honest, I haven't proof-read this, so please excuse mistakes! Or message me about them and I'll fix them ;)

"Harry! Harry get up, we've got classes!"

"Nnmmphh."

"Merlin, you're impossible."

"Urrrghhh."

Draco just laughed at that, and pulled the cover off the bed. Harry however, clung to it and was pulled onto the floor in a rather undignified way.

"Bloody hell Harry, we've got twenty minutes before breakfast is over!"

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

He let out a great sigh and pushed himself to his feet. "Fine, fine." He looked around. They were still in the room of requirement, having spent the night in there. Overnight it had re-formed into a luxurious room with an en suite and a fireplace though, with a piano in the corner. Draco was towel-drying his hair in a floor-length mirror and Harry went into the bathroom to get ready, yawning hugely and not seeming to realise it was quite an odd situation. He didn't feel in the slightest bit awkward as he trailed a hand over Draco's back as he passed him on the way to the bathroom. Nothing felt out of place about being woken up by a Slytherin he'd hated since he was 11.

He speed-showered, speed-dressed and they speed-walked down to the Great Hall through empty corridors. They entered together it was practically deserted already. Harry gave a smile of relief and grabbed a stack of toast and a jug of orange juice.

"This do?" He asked, holding them up. Draco looked confused and glanced towards the Slytherin table. The few sat there were all giving him death-glares and he nodded quickly.

"That'll be fine, let's go!" He said, hurrying back the way that had come. Harry laughed and followed more slowly, back up to the Room of Requirement.

"This isn't really like you Harry…running away." Draco said as they munched toast, sat on cushions on the floor.

"I wouldn't if it was just me, but I'm rather worried about you with the rest of your House."

Draco gave a small smile, not meeting the green eyes.

"Yeah, lessons are going to be _so_ fun." He said sarcastically. "I'll just live up here for the rest of the year," he said with a grin, but Harry wasn't sure he was really joking.

They finished up and headed down to Transfiguration together. They'd decided not to go fully public with the relationship but both knew it might be a little late to stop the rumours.

As they entered the students already there fell silent before they began whispering hysterically to each other. Harry rolled his eyes and picked a seat next to Ron (who was sat next to Hermione).

"Oi, ferret face!" Ron called across to Draco, who was looking rather lost. "There's a spare seat over here," he said with a grin. Draco looked infinitely relieved and headed over, dropping his bag onto the empty desk with a murmured thanks.

McGonagall appeared in the door and everyone shut up. She strode to the front and began the lesson. Throughout the hour students cast sidelong glances at the two old rivals, muttering to neighbours and snickering behind their hands.

In the end she slammed a book down on her desk. "Will you be quiet? What has gotten you so restless this morning?" Every pair of eyes turned to Harry and Draco who both blushed but held their gazes. McGonagall sighed. "Really, you should be proud of them. They've overcome years of resentment and stopped disrupting our lessons, a responsibility which the rest of you all seem to have taken upon yourselves instead. Now if you'd kindly be quiet I have a lesson to finish." She said with a note of finality. Everyone turned back to her and the lesson continued without further interruption.

Draco spent break and lunch with the trio and by fourth lesson people began to grow accustomed to the new addition. Though as ever there were still some stares ad whispers following them. Draco, who had never been the subject of taunts and jests before was finding it very uncomfortable, and when he, Harry and Hermione went to choir practice he hid himself at the back.

They began and the duet, choir piece and quintet were performed before Flitwick gave an announcement.

"Now, in two weeks, we are to perform in front of the school-"

The whole room erupted into chaos, people shouting excuses for why they couldn't attend and Hermione looking confused as to why they didn't want to go.

Snape stood up and glided to the front. The noise faded out and he crossed his arms. "You will all be in attendance, with only the excuse of death or paralysis excusing you." He said silkily. He spoke quietly but everyone could hear him. "Now. Be quiet and listen, show some respect to your professors."

He went back to the piano and sat down once more. Draco shot him a grin and he winked back surreptitiously.

"Yes, so…" Flitwick tried to re-compose himself. "In two weeks tomorrow we will be performing in the Great Hall for the rest of the school." There was a definite feeling of tension in the air as he said it again, but this time no one spoke out. The session ended soon after and everyone headed out to lunch.

"Do we have to do our duet?" Draco said quietly to Harry as they and Hermione exited the rehearsal. Harry shrugged but Hermione nodded.

"I saw Flitwick's notes on his desk; you're performing the quintet and the duet." She said, unable to keep a grin off her face. They boys both groaned and Ron, who'd been waiting at the door, gave them inquisitive looks. They explained and enjoyed a pleasant lunch in the Student Commons, what with Draco unable to get into the tower.

The two weeks leading up to the concert were full of practices, with Flitwick asking them to rehearsals on several lunchtimes too. They all went along rather willingly, as it was still cold and wet outside. Harry was feeling ready for the concert, but extremely nervous. He'd never had to perform before and he'd never been very good with large crowds.

Hermione and Ron tried to calm him down whilst Draco fretted as much as he did. He was paranoid people would start hexing him if he went up in front of them and although the other three tried to reassure him no one would dare what with Dumbledore there, he wasn't convinced.

The day drew closer and closer, without too many incidents. Admittedly there were several times either Harry or Draco ended up in the hospital wing from a hex, generally thrown by a hostile Slytherin but it was never very serious. The worst occasion was both of them in there with their hair falling out and the skin on their noses flaking away. Luckily it wasn't too hard to fix and they were out again the same day.

Teachers attempted to stop the bullying but since it was always in crowded halls no one really knew who it was. On the third attempt at hexing them Draco flipped out and sent a curse back at them, but they ran away before it hit.

Three days later was the concert itself. The piece the choir performed together was perfect, without a note out of tune. Harry and Draco stepped round the sides of the rest and stood facing the gathered students. They were all silent, staring expectantly at them and Snape began to play. Harry's heart raced and he looked from one face to the next in the audience, looking for friends.

He caught Ron's eye, who gave him the thumbs up, Hermione beamed at him, Neville waved, Dean and Seamus snickered, Ginny smiled and Luna looked lost in her own world as usual. He smiled and felt himself relax at the normality, and began to sing.

The Hall sat in stunned silence, several mouths hanging open in astonishment. Harry smiled and Draco joined in as his part came in. Together they sang in perfect harmony, their voices melting together to diffuse across the crowd, who stared in shock until the two finished, whereupon they burst into applause, many choosing to cheer for the pair.

They beamed out across the students and shared a smile as the three who were to perform the quintet left the main body of the choir and joined them at the front. They barely had a minute's rest before Flitwick was beating them in and they began again to sing.

"Bloody hell Harry, you can sing!" Seamus said in amazement once they were all back in the Gryffindor Common Room (Draco having ventured nervously back to the dungeons). Harry smiled and ran a hand through his hair awkwardly.

"Yeah, well…some people are just talented. You don't seem to share any part of that." He said with a grin. Seamus grinned back and reclined on the sofa.

"So, what d'you reckon old Flitwick will make you do next?" He asked, several heads turning his way in interest. But Harry just shrugged.

"I have no idea. I mean we might have to compete in competitions. I wouldn't put it past him, though I don't know any other wizarding schools that have a choir, and we're the only one in Britain so I would guess if that does happen; it'll be against muggles." He rambled. A couple of people laughed.

"But you could all just cheat!" A fourth year offered.

"Did they sound like they needed to bloody cheat?" Dean retorted with a snort. The student went red and turned back to his homework. Harry chuckled and threw himself down into one of the armchairs by the fire.

The next rehearsal they had was two days later, and Harry's suspicions were confirmed when Flitwick told them they'd be competing. Against muggle schools. The Slytherins seemed the only ones with a problem about this, and although a couple threatened to quit or complain, no one did. Everyone else was looking excited and most were muttering to friends.

They were to compete with a local school first, they would be travelling out of grounds. At this the students fell silent. They were never allowed out on trips to anywhere but Hogsmeade.

"Eventually we will meet with a wizarding choir, but not a school one."

"Sir," Hermione said, raising her hand. "What will we sing? And when are the competitions?"

"We have a month to prepare, and we'll be doing medleys of muggle songs. Now before you start complaining," he hastened on at the expressions on some of the students' faces, "We could risk the exposure of our world if we did wizarding songs."

"But sir, they'd just think it was a new genre of music, surely? They'd probably call it 'wizard rock' or something." Draco pointed out in his usual drawl, and several people laughed.

"Be that as it may, the ministry have forbidden it." Flitwick squeaked.

The rehearsal went on smoothly and they all ran out as usual at the bell, clutching permission slips to send home and have returned by the end of next week.

Draco, Harry and Hermione sauntered out together, meeting Ron in the corridor. It was a rare occasion they all had a class together, and they headed down to Transfiguration as a four.

The date of the competition neared with startling velocity. Although prepared, every one of them was nervous. The fifth years and above all began stressing over homework half way into the term. They all had essays and research and most lunchtimes the library was full of students trying their hardest to work. Those in the choir were even more stressed. They had extra practice sessions, and Draco and Harry still met every other night in the Room of Requirement to practice.

Too soon, the date arrived for them to leave Hogwarts. With great trepidation the choir waved goodbye to their friends as they clambered into the thestral-drawn carriages that would take them down to the station. They were leaving a day early and staying in a muggle hotel. Wands were to be either left at school or at the bottom of their bags. They had a Ministry official escorting them to make sure nothing went awry and to help if it did.

They arrived at a large hotel in York, and attracted a lot of stares from the casual shoppers. Very few of them actually really understood how to blend in, despite the help of the muggle-borns or half-bloods. Harry and Hermione had spent most of the journey down laughing at the outfits some of them thought appropriate. A fourth year Slytherin had managed to find a dress that looked like it was from the late 1800s. One boy had managed to procure a pair of fluorescent trousers and an open-necked shirt, finishing the outfit off with a pair of riding boots.

Harry, Hermione and Draco all managed to look normal, in jeans and t-shirts. Draco and Harry were to share a room, whilst Hermione was stuck with a girl from the year below as co-ed rooms were not being allowed. They stayed together until curfew was called, and Hermione said good-bye to them and went back to her own room.

Draco was secretly quite pleased that the hotel had not had enough twin rooms left and he and Harry had been 'forced' to have a double bed. He suspected Harry may have dropped hints to Flitwick that he didn't mind sharing a bed with Draco, and he certainly wasn't complaining.

They curled up together, too nervous to really talk about much and they fell asleep quickly enough. Harry dreamt of the upcoming competition, and that Snape materialised in the middle of it. He put the imperius curse on him and forced him to do an Irish jig across the stage, despite Harry's protests that he had no idea what an Irish jig really was. The entire audience started jeering at him and Snape took hold of his shoulder and shook him violently.

Harry woke with a start to find not Snape, but Draco shaking him, his brow creased in concern.

"Harry, are you ok? You were shouting about an Irish jig then you just went still."

Harry sighed and nodded. "Dream, yeah I'm fine." He yawned. "I went still because you don't move in REM sleep. You don't talk either, so I guess I was thinking about Irish jigs before I started dreaming," he grinned and Draco shook his head in disbelief, a small smile on his lips. "What time is it?"

"Almost half seven, we're expected downstairs in an hour."

Harry nodded and curled into a ball. Draco wrapped him in his arms and kissed his neck.

"You know what we could do to fill the time?" He whispered against Harry's skin. The Gryffindor chuckled and caught his lips in a kiss.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," he breathed against his mouth.

The morning came round far too quickly for everyone as they dragged themselves downstairs for muggle food, company and stares. Outfits were as ridiculous as before, though some alterations seemed to have been made by magic or not Harry didn't dare guess, and a few looked a little more normal.

They all piled into a coach half an hour after breakfast and were soon off to the theatre being used as a base for the competition. Their main piece was compiled of six muggle songs none of them had ever heard of; Price Tag, Don't You (Forget About Me), Give Me Everything, Just the Way You Are, Party in the U.S.A., and Turn the Beat Around.

Before long they were stood backstage waiting to go on, watching the previous school finishing off. Most of them were confident they were better than everyone who had so far performed, and it was with an air of smugness that they all sauntered onstage and into position. They'd hired a (magical) choreographer to come into Hogwarts for a week to give them a routine, and although many people had been sceptical about dancing, they'd rehearsed it enough together to make it flow.

Flitwick beat them in, Harry grinned at Draco, who winked back and they stepped onto podiums in front of the choir, bringing them in.

All in all it had gone very well, Draco thought as they all cheered after it was all over. They had come in second, getting through to the next round. They went out for dinner, with substantial amounts of alcohol being smuggled into the older students' drinks by Nott, and they enjoyed a loud evening of pissing off as many muggles as had the misfortune to sit near them.

As soon as they got back to Hogwarts rehearsals began again, and they were given a more complicated medley, and Flitwick pulled Harry and Draco aside.

"I want you to write a duet." He squeaked to them. Harry grinned whilst Draco looked dumbfounded at the professor.

"You're kidding?"

"No Mr Malfoy, I am not. We need something new, and I know you two work well together and I know you're a musician. You can both sing, you're perhaps the best here, and I need you to do this."

Draco grudgingly agreed and slouched out the door as the bell rang, having no desire whatsoever to write music he would have to show the world.

"Hey, why the long face?" Harry asked. He was in a very good mood, he'd been hoping he could do this, and he was going to have fun with it. Draco just scowled at the ground. "Aw does itty bitty baby Dwaco not like not knowing?"

He got some mumbled response and he laughed. "It'll be fine, I promise." He had a mischievous glint in his eye that made Draco all the more wary.

"What are you planning to do?"

"Ahh but Master Malfoy that would be telling!"

"Hey! I've got to sing this too! Don't make me do anything embarrassing."

"You forgot the magic word," Harry teased.

"Silencio?" Draco retorted, flicking his wand in Harry's direction then cackling and sprinting off down the corridor, an enraged green-eyed Gryffindor haring after him, silently shouting at him to remove it at once. He'd get him back for this, make no mistake about that.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N**__:_ The music belongs to Bethesda, from their game Skyrim, composed by the amazing Jeremy Soule. I would advise checking out this awesome version if you haven't heard it: watch?v=J7vrQKLpklI

Ah, an update at last! Don't you just _love exam _season_? _There's a bit of an explanation at the end, and I hope to update a _lot_ quicker with the next chapter! Nearing the end! At last! Enjoy…

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The charm was only removed half an hour later, after many silent threats and glares followed by ten minutes of sulking from Harry. He pointedly ignored his boyfriend, turning his face away from any attempt at communication. In the end Draco gave up and removed the hex, Harry giving him a smug, if still irritated, look.

They were joined in the library a couple of minutes later by Ron and Hermione. Draco and Hermione tutted as one as the other two pulled out homework due in for last lesson. They had almost finished anyway, and by comparing notes finished in ten minutes (perhaps a record for them).

They split to go to separate classes after lunch, Ron and Harry heading out to Care of Magical Creatures whilst both Hermione and Draco went to Ancient Runes. For the boys the lesson was spent freezing outside, attempting to get feathers off a Jobberknoll for potions. By the end of the lesson every student present was covered in scratches and puncture wounds from the birds' beaks.

Grumbling, they stuffed the birds back into the cages, handed in the meagre supply of feathers they'd collected into Hagrid, and went shivering and muttering back up to the castle. Harry brought up the topic of writing a duet, knowing Ron would most likely not be able to help, but figured he might as well try.

"So, Flitwick asked me and Draco to write a duet. If it's good enough we'll perform it at the next competition."

Ron snorted, apparently unable to help himself. "You're a good singer mate, but do you actually know how to write music?" He said, trying to supress laughter. Harry grinned and shook his head.

"Haven't got a clue; I don't even know what to write it about! I haven't the foggiest how you're meant to put words into lyrics, especially if they have to rhyme," he admitted, still smiling.

Ron started spouting ridiculous ideas, giving Ginny's sonnet from second year a run for its money (quite an impressive feat really) and rather than getting annoyed Harry laughed and even input a couple of cheesy lines.

"You had better reconsider doing that if you want to keep your firebolt, Potter." Came a very familiar drawl from behind them. Both Gryffindors looked around to see Draco stood with a book in one hand by his side and an eyebrow raised, standing next to a very amused looking Hermione.

"I think you should Harry –but only for his part." She said with a grin. Harry returned it and winked at Draco, who looked suspicious the rest of the way to Potions, but didn't move away from Harry's arm around his waist as they walked.

The class was deadly boring, with Neville succeeding to blow up his third cauldron that week and Snape deducting an unreasonable number of points from Gryffindor. By that point the entire class were utterly unaffected –they didn't glare or protest, choosing instead to look disinterested at the common occurrence.

Draco slipped Harry a note in passing as the class filed out, and he stuffed it inconspicuously into his pocket, not even pausing in his conversation with Seamus. He didn't look at the parchment until back in the common room, as half the House watched a couple have a row in the middle of the room.

_Harry,_

_9pm in the Room of Requirement and we'll draw out some actual lyrics to the duet._

_See you soon,_

_Love, Draco_

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he stowed it in his bag, checking his watch. He still had two hours to kill before he needed to be leaving, and turned his attention to a Quidditch book someone had left on the table.

Twenty minutes later the girl who'd been part of the argument stormed upstairs with a yell of frustration and the boy ran out trying not to cry by the looks of it, the portrait hole slamming shut behind him.

A general background buzz of conversation filled the room once more, and Harry shut the book to talk to his friends about Snape's continued unfairness to the Gryffindors.

At five to nine Harry said his farewells, not even bothering to come up with an excuse, and headed out the portrait hole, almost walking into the boy who had stormed out earlier, now heading back inside. He offered an apologetic look and headed down through the tower to the seventh floor, asking for the room they usually met in.

He sat at the piano and pressed random keys whilst he waited. A minute later the door creaked open and Draco came in. Harry smiled and slid off the stool to kiss him hello.

"So, a duet? A more serious one than you were discussing with Weasley earlier if you don't mind," he said, his voice inflected with amusement whilst still sounding rather serious. Harry grinned.

"Fine, fine, if you want to be boring," he said with a grin.

"I don't want to have to go up in front of hundreds of people to sing, and have to spew that nonsense to them!" Draco retorted with a dry chuckle. They sat together on a sofa, quills twiddling in hands and parchment resting on their knees. They discussed different ideas for quite some time, not entirely sure how many references to magic they could put in without the Ministry classing it as a breach to the Statute of Secrecy.

"Hey, 'Draco' means 'dragon', right?"

"Yeah…why?" Draco asked apprehensively.

"And you know how I'm meant to be the 'saviour of the wizarding world'?" Harry asked bitterly. Draco's curved into a small smirk and he nodded. Harry shot him a glare and went on. "Well what if we changed it a little…the 'dragonborn' is here to save a world. We could make it about Hogwarts or a famous muggle location that's meant to be magical." He suggested. Draco looked up, brow furrowed in thought.

"You know, that might be the first interesting idea you've had all night…" Draco said, sounding completely serious. Harry shoved him with his shoulder and Draco grinned. No matter how many times he reminded himself they were together and it was quite a normal thing to see, Harry still got a slight shock at seeing the pointed face actually portray joy as appose to the maliciousness he'd grown so used to over the past few years.

They decided to go not entirely serious with the lyrics, but the tune would be serious. In the end they had to put in back-up from the choir to get the true effect they required. Harry also had the idea of looking up old muggle 'spells' that perhaps once meant something to make it interesting. The Room provided muggle mythology books, and they found an old Nordic piece that fit quite well with the sound of the rest of the song.

By half eleven they had written lyrics and basic harmonies; Draco's voice was to be tested rather more than he would have liked, but Harry was very…persuasive. By the time they'd finished writing both were yawning but feeling rather pleased with themselves. They agreed to meet the next day, same time same place to work on it and to see if it would actually work with their voices.

* * *

The next day Harry had Quidditch practice after tea, but it was chucking it down in true British style and he was frozen and very muddy by the time they headed back inside. It had been a short practice but had still managed to leave the entire team sopping and miserable. The showers were a welcome relief and they all hurried back to the castle huddled under two huge umbrellas.

They got back to the tower in slightly better moods, but still rather cold, and Harry sought out his two best friends. Joining them by the fire he closed his eyes –happy to be sat down at last.

"Did you two do it last night then?" Hermione asked nonchalantly and Ron paled.

"What?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"The duet," she said innocently. "Did you get it done?"

Harry laughed and Ron grasped the arms of his chair, his eyes a little wider than usual and Hermione smirked at them both.

"Right, yeah, we did it." Harry said, wondering how far he could push it before Ron fainted. "Took a while, but we got there in the end –it was actually really fun." He glanced at Ron out the corner of his eye and had to supress laughter. Hermione was not so lucky –she let out a giggle which progressed into proper laughter as Ron paled further, groaned and closed his eyes.

"Stop it Harry," he complained. Harry grinned but complied.

"Yeah, we got lyrics and basic harmonies done, we're just going to add some more to it tonight; finishing touches and all that. Oh come on Ron, that wasn't even an innuendo!" He laughed as Ron gave him a threatening look.

"I'm curious Harry, can you sing some of it for us now?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"I'd love to but er…" He looked around at the common room. "I don't really want to just start singing. Plus it doesn't really sound quite right with just one voice; it's better to get the full effect." He considered for a second. "You're welcome to come along tonight if you want. You too Ron, obviously." He offered, not looking up from the essay he'd just pulled from his bag.

"Really? I think that could be quite fun! What about you, Ron?" Hermione sounded happy and a little excited if truth be told. Harry smiled over the top of his parchment at her before glancing across to Ron, who seemed to be considering the idea.

"Nah, thanks mate but I'd rather not. Music never really interested me. I'll play chess or something with Seamus," he glanced out the window and grimaced. "No chance of a late fly though, it's still pouring down out there."

* * *

Harry and Hermione left Ron in the middle of a game of exploding snap with Dean, Seamus, Ginny and Parvati, clambering out the portrait hole. They walked down in comfortable silence –one thing Harry really liked about Hermione was that she was happy to leave him to his thoughts and vice versa when it was just two of them. Ron was much more active, wanting noise and attention. They figured it was from growing up with such a huge family.

They happened upon Draco arriving just as they did, if from the opposite direction. They went in together, Harry explaining Hermione was interested in hearing how it was coming along. Draco shrugged, a small smile on his face.

"Fine by me, it could have been a lot worse, you could have brought Longbottom." He said with a mock shudder of contempt and Harry whacked him on the head with some paper from a pile on the floor. "Was that necessary?" Harry nodded and he rolled his eyes. "Oh, Granger, have you finished that homework for Professor Vector yet?" Draco asked as the door swung shut behind them.

Harry went to light the fire to make it more comfortable and smiled as they struck up a conversation about arithmancy. If he was honest it was making him glad he hadn't picked it, it sounded dreadfully boring. Draco had made his way to an acoustic guitar, and was stroking out scales to warm up. He played short pieces to warm up his right hand and began reciting the newly tabbed song they'd written the night before.

"Let it be shown on the record, that we haven't actually sung this together yet –we don't know if it'll work or anything, so bear with us," Harry warned before they began.

Harry let Draco run through it once without vocals, settling next to his boyfriend on a sofa as Hermione made herself comfortable in a plush armchair by the softly crackling fire. She sat with a smile as he played, enjoying the simple but effective harmonies. It started again, and after a short introduction of a few bars both boys began singing in unison. Harry's voice was deep, as low as he could go, whilst Draco's contrasted sharply but well, higher and clearer but still really obviously masculine. He didn't know how it worked, but it did and he wasn't complaining.

_Our Hero, our Hero, claims a warrior's heart  
I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes  
With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art  
Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes_

It's an end to the evil of all Hogwart's foes  
Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes  
For the darkness has passed and the legend yet grows  
You'll know, you'll know, the Dragonborn's come

_Ah-ah-ah-ahhh,  
ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah  
(etc.)_

Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin  
Naal ok zin los vahriin  
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal  
Ahrk fin norok paal graan  
Fod nust hon zindro zaan  
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal

When they finished Hermione had a faraway look on her face –something Harry was not accustomed to seeing; usually she was the most down-to-Earth person he knew. She came back as the guitar faded out and she beamed at them.

"Oh Harry that was wonderful! What was the language at the end?" Draco scowled at her –it was his too, but she didn't seem to notice.

Harry shrugged, pleased she had liked it. "Thanks. We found it in an old Nordic book, but we're not actually sure what it means –it just sounded good."

"We're going to try and get the choir to add more harmonies in the middle 'Ah' section." Draco added and she nodded.

"I think that's a good idea –it'll add to the atmosphere. It sounds quite folky, was that purposeful?" She inquired and they shook their heads in unison.

"Not really, it just sort of happened," Harry admitted. He didn't mind, he was proud of how they'd done considering they hadn't actually ever sung it together.

They ran through it a couple more times, and Hermione added a higher harmony in the middle. They decided it sounded good like that, and sketched some of it onto paper. She left them at almost 10pm, claiming she didn't trust Ron to be left on his own for more than twenty minutes, let alone almost an hour, and she waved to them as she walked out.

The next half an hour was spent less productively, but it was more fun, so neither was unhappy. They went back to songs from earlier that year and spent the rest of the time together laughing and talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Two days later they were to show the duet to Flitwick. Draco took a guitar from the Room of Requirement (much to Flitwick's surprise) and they performed for him. He agreed higher harmonies in the centre would be good, but he was pleased they had succeeded the task he had set them. They thanked him and promised to work on it to perfect the little nuances and make tweaks where necessary.

They went down to the Great Hall to grab some lunch, discussing the song. They went to an empty classroom to eat away from the ever present stares of the student body, and enjoyed an hour adding to and editing the duet. By the time the bell went both of them were pretty happy with it, and decided to get work done that night rather than meeting up.

* * *

The next choir rehearsal was the next day, and the two of them sang for them. During the session they got each section to add harmonies to give a nicer texture and make the overall effect more profound. Flitwick announced the next competition date and Harry noticed some smiles he didn't trust on the Slytherin's faces. It wasn't just the serpents though –a few Gryffindors were muttering and snickering with them, something that made Harry very uncomfortable.

He pointed it out in a quiet murmur to Draco, who frowned then got an almost worried look on his face. _That's never a good sign, _Harry thought, and decided to inquire later. The practice itself went smoothly, and everyone got new a new piece to start learning. They were all reminded that the room they were sat in was always open for those who wanted to rehearse between times, just as the bell went and students hurried out the door. The guitar Draco had brought was left next to the piano.

Hermione caught up to the two boys at the door. "I didn't like the sound of that muttering," she murmured and they both nodded.

"Did you see their smirks? And it wasn't just the Slytherins either –what do you reckon's going on?"

"Sabotage," Draco said softly as they headed down the corridor.

"Sabotage?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison. He nodded, brow slightly furrowed.

"I expect so –what else?"

"But Gryffindors and Slytherins working together?" Harry said disbelievingly.

Both Hermione and Draco gave him condescending looks.

"What?"

"Harry, my sweet idiot, we are in those Houses and look how well we get on."

"Oh right, yeah…" he said. "But sabotaging who?"

Draco shrugged. "Us? The other competitors…anyone part of the competition probably." He sounded completely at ease with it and Hermione frowned at him.

"Can't you have a little more compassion? They're very possibly planning to ruin the competition and our chances, yet you don't seem to care in the slightest."

"Because on the whole, I don't." He admitted, seeming almost surprised at the accusatory tone she held. "This isn't a compulsory part of our education, and there's a good chance it'll be funny; both Houses are rather well known for pranks, you have to admit." He pointed out with a slight grin. The other two both acquiesced at that and they separated for their next classes as they passed to necessary classrooms.

* * *

Nearly two weeks later, Harry found out Draco was right about sabotage, but it was really not what he would have called funny. There had been a temporary cease in the mutterings, starings, and insults aimed at Harry and Draco's relationship (or even just them as individuals) and Harry had begun to grow suspicious.

He mentioned it to Draco, but he'd just shrugged it off, doubting it was anything to really worry about. If anything the blonde boy seemed to be looking forward to whatever the choir were planning.

The tension in Harry grew progressively worse through the two weeks between then and anything actually happening, though he tried his best to supress it. There was a growing feeling of expectation in the air during choir rehearsals and an increase in the snickering in the breaks between parts. Draco continued to ignore it, but Hermione shared his concern.

In the five minutes between lessons after one rehearsal, a small group of both Slytherins and Gryffindors surrounded Draco in a c rapidly emptying corridor. He drew himself up and glared at them all icily as they smirked at him. More than one of them had their wands drawn and grasped in their hand by their sides.

"You've been naughty, little ferret," One of the girls purred and Draco narrowed his eyes at her.

"What are you blithering on about, Pigson?" He drawled in a tone he hadn't used for quite some time. She was stood casually, examining her nails and cleaning them with the tip of her wand as she spoke. He hoped she'd lose control and hex off her own nails.

"Your little relationship with Potter, and your duet together."

"In what way does that affect you?" His voice was bordering on a snarl rather than the controlled drawl he'd prefer to keep. By that point they were the only ones left in the corridor and the bell was surely going to signal the start of classes soon. A flicker of worry shot through him, but he squashed it. Surely someone would realise he wasn't where he was supposed to be and come looking for him?

"Oh, it doesn't," she said cheerfully, looking up from her nails. "I just don't think you make a very good couple. You'd be much better with say…a pig? Or maybe Potter would prefer his _ferret_ back the way he should be," she mused with a foul sneer twisting her lips. A glance around the other five present showed they all held similar expressions.

"It's taken you two weeks to come up with _this_? Seriously?" He mocked, but he began to feel extremely uncomfortable. He'd hated being a ferret and he as sure as Merlin was dead that he didn't want to be one again. But he stood his ground, backed up against the wall and stared coldly around at them all.

"Well we had to find the right spell, you know? Couldn't have one that the teachers could remove quickly, where's the fun in that?" A couple of them started snickering and Draco felt dread build inside him. "See you in a few weeks, ferret face."

As one, four raised their wands and before he even had time to think 'shit!', four bolts of light hit him in the chest and he felt himself shrinking in a horribly familiar way he'd hoped to never feel again. The world span around him and he felt queasy.

Eight seconds later and he was curled up in a ball on the floor, tiny paws covering his head to protect himself. At least this time he wasn't bouncing. His red eyes blinked and he narrowed them at the circle of six people peering down at him. He bared his tiny teeth and leapt at the ankles of one. There was a yell from them and the other five ran, leaving the boy to try and disentangle and enraged ferret Draco from his ankles.

* * *

When Draco didn't turn up for class Harry began to worry. His paranoia was always close to the surface now, and it took little to push it over the edge. Five minutes in, when Draco still failed to appear, Harry asked to go to the toilet and left the room in a hurry. He missed Ron and Hermione exchanging a nervous glance behind him.

Harry searched half the floor before hearing running footsteps and yells in the distance. Adrenaline coursed through him and he ran towards the noises. Halfway down an empty hallway five people barged past, two of them ramming into him on either shoulder as they ran. They looked gleeful and laughed as they rushed past him.

They'd left one of their number –a chubby, tall boy with short mousey brown hair and Slytherin robes- flailing around and Harry drew his wand cautiously, examining the scene before him. Harry saw something white and furry clinging to the ankle of this boy and with dawning comprehension he ran the last two metres.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He yelled.

"Ask that to your bloody boyfriend!" The boy said. Harry narrowed his eyes and punched the boy before he could stop to think about it.

"What did you do to him?" Stupid question, but his mind was oddly blank at that moment. Perhaps it was shock.

The boy stood still, with quite an effort it would seem, and smirked though it looked strained, Harry was glad to see. The student lifted his leg to show his ankle, upon which was latched a white ferret. When the animal saw Harry it launched itself at him and too late Harry scrambled backwards. He needn't have worried however, as the ferret curled itself around his neck and hissed at the boy who now sported a bloody leg.

Harry looked between the two in disbelief. "You idiots," he breathed at the boy. Footsteps were fast approaching from one end of the hall and they sounded like a teacher's. "We're going to get this sorted, ok Draco?" The ferret merely dug its claws into his shoulder for support and rested his head against his neck. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to see who was approaching.

It was Snape. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad. He turned more fully so Draco could see who it was, and the ferret sat up before crawling quickly down Harry's arm, leg then to the floor and across to Snape. The professor looked down at him with pursed lips and a look of disgust on his face. When the ball of fur stopped in front of him, stood on its hind legs and began squeaking Harry laughed and Snape's expression turned to one of fury. Harry was less angry than he'd have thought. He would have expected to be beating the fucker in front of him for transforming his boyfriend into a ferret, but he found an inexplicable lack of fury. In its place was amusement, which caused his some confusion.

The boy who'd had a hand in hexing him had been unable to hobble very far away before Snape caught up to him and hauled him away to question him. "Potter, Malfoy, with me." He spat. Harry crouched down and held out an arm to Draco, who scuttled up obligingly and they followed the bat-like teacher down to the staff room. There they got McGonagall and went to her office.

When she was told what had happened she exploded in rage at the other boy, who failed in defending himself and eventually gave the other five names. Unless Harry was much mistaken, there was a certain air of smugness emanating from the boy-ferret on his shoulders. He smirked in an excellent imitation of Draco's usual default expression but wiped it from his face when McGonagall turned to him. Snape stood behind her with his arms crossed across his chest and a murderous look in his eyes.

"And where do you come into this Potter?" She asked briskly.

"Nowhere, Professor." He said honestly. "I got worried because Draco didn't turn up for class and some students have been muttering amongst themselves for the last couple of weeks."

"Right, hand over Mr Malfoy if you would, Potter."

Harry obligingly held out an arm and Draco, somewhat reluctantly it would seem, uncoiled himself from Harry and slunk down the arm onto the desk. Draco stood on his hind legs again, red eyes staring at McGonagall expectantly. She muttered to Snape and he escorted the chubby boy out the room to the hospital wing, still looking murderous. She drew her wand and pointed it determinedly at Draco. A flourish and a flash of light later, and there was no difference. Draco was still a ferret, albeit a confused looking one. He looked down at his furry chest and as far as a ferret could, frowned.

Harry's amusement faded away. "Try it again." He demanded. Her lips pursed but she did so, yet it still had no effect. "What's happening? Why isn't it working?" He said, feeling more agitated by the second. He was tempted to try himself, but he knew his would have less effect than a teacher's and decided not to bother embarrassing himself. McGonagall tried once more as Harry sunk into the hard wooden chair by the desk. He stared in shock at the little animal on the table in front of him, and he stared right back, a look of confusion scrunching the minute features.

There were three minutes of tense, awkward silence before the door swung open again; bouncing off the wall and making the three of them jump. Snape strode in, looking around for Draco. "Where is he? We'll see what he can tell-" He stopped short as he saw the ferret still on the desk. "Well? Turn him back!" He expelled indignantly.

"Severus, I tried. The spell refuses to reverse."

If possible, Snape's expression turned even more sour. "What do you mean, refuses to reverse?" He said in his most dangerous voice. McGonagall demonstrated, and Draco stayed resolutely ferret-like. Snape's features twisted into a thunderous expression and he looked about to explode. "Have you tried a different spell?" He spat venomously.

She did so, in fact she tried four different ones, but none had any effect whatsoever. With a look that could freeze fire he swept back out the room, his cloak billowing out behind him to give the impression of an overgrown, greasy haired bat. The ferret squeaked and the other two looked down at him, unable to understand.

"Where's he going, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Most likely to try and get more information from the people who did this, or perhaps to brew a potion. I do not know, Mr Potter, and if it is not immediately useful, I do not really care, either. Now if you'd be so kind, either take Mr Malfoy here to the hospital wing or return to class with him. I see no alternative other than to have him stay with you from now until we can get this reversed." She sighed and sat down in her chair behind the desk. "But do take care not to let it be known that this is Malfoy, or I fear we'll have a riot on our hands."

"Professor, this is Hogwarts, it's likely that by now the entire school already knows that Draco is a ferret again."

"Yes, well." She said through pursed lips. "At least he isn't bouncing this time."

Harry snorted and Draco dug his claws into his hand which was resting atop the desk. "Come on, ferret face. You'll have to go in my pocket or on my shoulders since my bag is still in class." The bell rang. "Ok, then it's with Ron and Hermione." He held still as Draco scampered over his arm and into his pocket, where he curled up out of sight, making Harry grin. He stood up and took his leave, shutting the door behind them as he went off to find his friends.

* * *

"He's a what?" Ron said gleefully. They were in the Gryffindor common room before dinner, and Harry was filling his two best friends in on what had happened after he'd run out of class.

"Ron, it's not funny," Hermione scolded, but she was trying (and failing) to hold back a smile. Harry grinned.

"Yeah it is Hermione." He felt Draco squirm in his pocket and chuckled.

"Where is he? The hospital wing?" Hermione asked. He shook his head and put a hand into his pocket. He withdrew a wriggling Draco, who seemed to be rather enjoying the warmth of the inside of a pocket.

At the sight of him Ron roared with laughter and Hermione chuckled. Draco was placed on a table, where he sat scrunched into a fluffy ball, his fur standing on end to make himself look bigger. Harry smiled down at him and Hermione peered closer.

"You're sure they couldn't do anything? I mean, it can't be fun being the size of a forearm."

Harry shook his head. "Snape was furious and stormed out and McGonagall tried 5 different spells," he reminded her. "I expect we're going to have to wait until it wears off if they don't find something soon."

"How far away is the competition? You don't think they designed a spell to stop him competing?"

"You know, I reckon they have, Hermione." Harry said thoughtfully and Draco's head popped up, looking alarmed. "But that's three weeks away still, can they actually have made a spell to last that long?" Ron's laughter was renewed every time he looked down and saw Draco, and Harry grinned at him.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see." Hermione said with interest.

_**A/N 2: **_Just, go with it, ok? I took it to be 'Draco' as dragonborn and although I am aware that Harry is the saviour…well, we'll see, right? :) Also you have my apologies for such an odd chapter…I've been in a strange mood recently xD


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